


All He Could See was Her Face

by Sanrionlove



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Romance, Set right after 8.05, Spoilers for 8.05, Things start to heat up in the north, Tyrion leaves King's Landing to go north and find Sansa, love making, sanrion - Freeform, what I wish had happened
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2020-03-08 11:49:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18894046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanrionlove/pseuds/Sanrionlove
Summary: He heard his name on her lips and for a moment it almost silenced the screaming sounds of horror behind him. For a moment it almost gave him hope.





	1. Tyrion

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this right after 8.05. Hope you enjoy it.

 

 

He had a hardness in his chest. A sinking feeling.

Could not think straight, everything had happened like in a dream. After watching the city burn he just stood there, surrounded by charred black bodies, hearing the screaming pleas of hurt women and children. The smell and the ash burned his nose. Explosions were happening inside the city, were he could see Drogon burning away what he knew were the markets and streets of the town filled with innocent people. Families. The realm.

Yet he could not bring himself to think clearly, to move. He was horrified. And he knew then the dimension of the mistake he'd made.

Somewhere, somehow he started moving. Saw in his field of vision a northern wagon, walk straight to it, grabbed a couple of bags not even sure of what was inside them and kept moving towards the lonely horse who saw out of the corner of his eye.

The sensation of being in a dream came back to him as he climb on it and started riding like in a trance, aimless, hearing in his head the muffled sounds of confusion and despair.

This was it all along? This? For what he was fighting for? The cause he had put infront of his own life, of the lives of his friends. How could he not have seen it? Was too blinded by the hope he found so quickly in Daenerys, thinking of her as a just ruler, wanting to believe in her word, in her view of a better world?

He thought of Varys. He was right of course. And so was Sansa.

Sansa. 

Suddenly his head cleared and started thinking straight again,. He had to see her, he had to warn her, had to speak to her one last time. To tell her she had been right all along, she, in her infinite wisdom, despite her age and the influence of her older brother.

Jon sure felt betrayed as well, he wonders what the course of action of the son of Rhaegar Targaryen would be after witness the madness that bled from Daenerys.

For a fleeting moment he imagined Jon putting and end to her. Did not know for sure if he would have the strenght to do it. 

He put a cloak on top of him, make sure that covered him well and starting riding as fast as he could, avoiding the King's Road. And marching North.

All he could see was her face, her hair, her eyes. He heard his name on her lips and for a moment it almost silenced the screaming sounds of horror behind him. For a moment it almost gave him hope. That not everything was lost.

Would she accept him? He wasn´t sure he deserve it after all he had done, all he had caused.

As he went straight ahead he searched in his chest until he found the badge that marked him as Hand of the Queen, took it off and threw it on the ground. Quickly the dirt and the loose grass flew on top of it until it was completely covered, almost buried.

 

 


	2. Sansa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes. I'm correcting the story as I reread the chapters. Thank you!  
> Love this two together, they fit so well. #IWillGoDownWithThisShip

When she got the letter from Jon she could not believe it, even if she knew what would happened with The Dragon Queen and her seek for control and power. Even if she had the best intentions. Sansa could vislumbrate the holes in the picture. The foreign troops too easily dettached from the people they were attacking, too far apart to tell if they were soldiers or families asking for mercy. Daenerys wanting to end with tyrants but being one herself, a sick joke that keeps repeting trough history.

She did not want this, she did not want all this people dead. All this suffering.

Then, the feeling of a sinking pit in her stomach took over. What about Arya? What about Tyrion? She suddenly thought of him. Had she burned him for standing up to her or was he still with her, defending his queen? She would not believe this. Not after he saw her true colors.

She felt the urge of wanting to help him, but did not know how. If he left where would he go? Across the Narrow Sea?

Or maybe... here? To Winterfell. It almost felt right, picturing him here, drinking wine next to her.

A knock on the door startled her.

 

"Yes?"

Maester Wolkan appeared behind the open door.

"My lady, I've come to inform you that at this very moment Lord Tyrion of the House Lannister is standing in front of the outer gate, he is alone, looking quite worn and asking for your hospitality. He requested to speak with you."

Sansa's jaw dropped, a surge of heat came rushing back all over her body. Could not believe what her ears where hearing.

"I can ask the men holding him to send him back where he came from." Said Wolkan misreading her expresion.

Quickly she said "No... I trust Lord Tyrion, I'm only surprised that he's here. Send him in"

She stood and walked to the window that looked to the courtyard, anxious for the first time in a long time. And then she saw him walking trough the gates, disheveled, with a look on his face of almost madness. He looked up searching with his eyes until his gaze met hers. His look was of complete surrender, of pain, of understanding, a sweet and intimate look, despite the distance that separated them. She had to take back a couple of steps, taken over by the power of that moment, the situation of him coming to her, of her realizing that he was alive and well.

 

She was nervous, waiting, for a couple of minutes until she heard a soft knock on the door.

"Come in"

The door opened, slowly, and then he appeared from the darkness looking straight into her eyes.

"My lady... May we speak privately for a moment?" said as he looked worried that she might turn him down.

"Of course, please enter. Do you want some wine?"

"Gods! You  ** _are_**  the perfect woman" She blushed at this unexpected comment but he didn't seemed to notice, his face in complete pain and distress but trying to cover it with a smile "I could not tell you how in need I am for a glass of red Dornish right now, I fear I have never needed one more in my life" He leaned against the door while closing it shut, pressing his back against it. Slowly and as if he was relieved. But at the same time it emaneted out of him an energy of shock, of hurt and horror.

She worried for him, wanting to know what could he'd seen that got him like this? Never have she seen his face like now, with this turmoil.

Took one of the cups, filled it with wine and stood up in his direction. She knelt in front of him so they were at eye level. He took the cup from her and their fingers touched

"What happened?" she asked, almost a whisper.

He looked at her for a moment breathing heavily, then looked away and took a sip of wine. Then looked back at her and drank the entire cup in one go.

"I've... I've made a mistake" said looking into the empty cup "I thought she was good, righteous and all of that and I was wrong. Thought that the words she spoke were truths and were only fantasies" Then he looked straight into her eyes "She burned them all, Sansa. She rode Drogon on top of King's Landing and burned everyone, thousands of families, the soldiers. She brought despair instead of freedom. Fear and fire. And I helped her do it" His eyes began to fill with tears. "And you were right all along and I didn't listened to you, I'm so sorry, could you ever forgive me?"

Sansa was taken aback by this sudden plea. "Please Tyrion, there is nothing to forgive." She looked closely into his eyes, they were so close she could feel his breath on her cheeks. "You are not responsible for her actions, for her madness. You tried to help her" She tried to convey in her eyes the sincerity of her words, the warm behind her closed walls.

He grabbed her hand in his, she could see the struggle in his mind, the sorrow for everything that had come to pass, pushing a smile on top of the pain he said "I think we will need more wine my lady, the situation calls for it" She chuckled, stood up and walked to the table to fetch the jar.

She filled both cups this time and sat in the chair by the fire. He could not sit apparently, kept walking around the room with his wine in one hand. They were in her chambers.

"I'm glad you are here" she said.

He stopped in his tracks "Really?"

She took a long drink "I was sure that if you were the man I thought you were, you wouldn't stand behind that horror. That you would have the courage to abandon her, to make the right choice"

"What kind of man do you think I am?" He asked looking at her intently.

She felt the rush of heat coming to her face once more.  _The perfect man_  she thought.

"Maybe the cleverest man alive, and perhaps... the kindest, most decent and good hearted"

He looked at her as if he could not believe what he just heard.

"I'm afraid the wine may have dull your senses, I'm not the cleverest and certainly not the best man out there, altough I want to be" A smile came to his lips "But I am the most fortuned man in the world for inspiring this words from you" He raised his cup to her. "That I know for sure"

They both drank looking one another.

"You did the right thing"

"I took way too much time to realize what was right"

"Better late than never"

She held her breath

"Tyrion..."

"Yes?"

"Why did you came here? You could have gone anywhere, escape far away but you came here, among all places"

He stood still in front of her, kind of tilt his head over to one side because of the wine and the exhaustion from his long trip.

"When I was in front of the gates at King's Landing and everyone and everything was falling apart all around me, I heard a voice. It was you"

Sansa exhaled sharply and involuntarily moved an inch forward.

"What did I say?"

He looked at her with that intense look that she knew so well.

"You said my name. And somehow I knew that not everything was lost. That there were still people worth trusting in. Beautiful people with good hearts and better minds. I saw your face in front of me, you in all your strenght and resolution. You, who saw right trough Daenerys from the start."

She parted her lips "Tyrion, I..."

In a swift movement he walked towards her, put his hands on her tighs and started speaking in a voice so strong and determined, so afraid but also so confident of what it was saying that she froze.

"Sansa. I thought I was gonna die, and for a moment I thought I deserved it for making the wrong choice but then..." He was leaning over her knees, his upper body falling on her and looking straight into her eyes. She almost shook in surprise and took his hands in hers as she leaned forward to be close to him.

"Then... I thought of you and your face appeared in front of me, your inmense beauty was all I could see, your gaze, your character, your intelligence, your good good heart." His eyes started to fill with tears again "Telling me that you where here for me, even if you are not my wife anymore, even if you do not want me." He looked down "You saved me, you guided me trough the road and brought me here. Even if I'm going to die, because Daenerys will follow me I'm sure of it, I'm glad I get to see you one one more time before it happens"

Sansa was lost for words, the feeling that came from his voice was the realest thing she ever felt in her life.

"I would not let her touch you" she said with her voice broken.

He looked up at her "Sansa..."

"Tyrion" She leaned forward and looked deep into his eyes. With one hand she delicately traced his scar while he closed his eyes. She then put it at the back of his neck, grabbing his hair. "Tyrion" He opened his eyes.

"I want you" He parted his lips. "I trust you with my life, I admire you, I... I desire you" She wanted to look away but kept her gaze still.

"I was thinking of you just before you came to me, was thinking of how I so wanted to see you, to hear you speak" He was looking at her like he looked at her in the crypt, when they thought all was over. With complete surrender. In awe of her. "To hear my name on your lips"

"Sansa..." He lifted a hand to brush her cheek, they where so close that he could feel her trembling. He reached up until his mouth met hers in a passionate, profound and deep kiss. She never have been kissed like this, never been kissed at all maybe. This man, this clever man was undoing before her, because of her. Both breathing out of control, still holding hand in hand. They parted only a little and Tyrion spoke into her lips "I love you" he said, so firmly and convinced. And grateful.

Sansa was among the clouds, could not believe that this was real, this, to feel him in her hands, to feel the need and the sorrow all at once. He had always wanted her.

"I love you" she said, and started kissing him again and between kisses she kept repeating "I love you, I love you".

He kissed her with a smile on his lips and tears running down his face. He kissed her like he hadn't kiss anyone before. Maybe he'd never been kissed at all.

 

 


	3. Tyrion

 

They kissed for what it felt a lifetime. Her hands were on his jaw and on his hair. One of his hands traced the exposed skin of her arm, with a light feather touch from the tips of his fingers. The other had found itself grabbing the collar of her armored dress, like his body reacting instinctively to bring her closer to himself, speaking his heart desire. With this action his fingers touched the skin of her neck and she made a noise in the back of her throat that could not be true. The Gods would not be so kind, she could not had so much pleasure from the touch of him. But she told him she loved him mere seconds ago. And it wasn't a dream.

And his heart wanted to believe it, he had wanted her for so long but just now it became a truth impossible to escape. Impossible not to see.

Her lips on his. Her tongue, her intoxicating smell. Oh, he was not ready for this welcome.

It felt so right, like both of them were going to suddenly burst into flames and lift from the ground at any moment. The connection between them like a powerful magnet, so strong that it was starting to get out of control.

A sudden knock brought both back to reality and broke their kiss. A flushed and breathless Sansa was looking at him with an expression he had not seen since her younger days. Like she's been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to do.

“Yes?” She asked in the direction the noise came but without taking her eyes from him.

He was still with half his body over her lap and could not bring himself to release her collar. Their noses almost touched each other.

“My lady, please forgive me for the interruption.” Maester Wolkan voice heard trough the door. “You told me to come to you at once.”

“Of course” she said, shaking her head almost imperceptibly and preparing to put the mask of duty back on. “Come in”

Tyrion released her and took a quick couple of steps to position himself at the other side of the table at the same time Maester Wolkan opened the door.

The maester entered her chambers with the sound of his chains and his robes dragging slightly over the floor. He had a scroll in his right hand.

The sun had hidden himself on the horizon already and Sansa's room was only lit by the candles on her table and the fire in the heart.

He looked at both of them and for a second a brightness crossed his gaze and Tyrion felt as if he had understood what was happening. The elephant in the room.

He cleared his throat.

“My lady, a raven has just arrived. I'ts from Queen Daenerys” Sansa reached out her right hand and took the scroll. She examined the Targaryen sigil and took a glance at Tyrion. He knew what was in that letter, it was the end of the road for him, of this beautiful dream. The reality striked him like a cruel but dispassioned force. _Not yet_ he thought _Please, not yet, I've just got here._ But things happened and his decisions were catching up to him.

Then she stood up and said “Thank you, Maester Wolkan, keep me informed about any news and any raven that might arrive” she said “Would you be so kind to tell the maids that they arrange a room for Lord Tyrion, as well as a bath and all the necessities he seems fit. He will be staying with us for a few days.”

“At once, my lady” Wolkan nodded in courtesy.

Sansa then turned to Tyrion and said “And you, my lord, must be exhausted after such a long trip. Please make yourself at home, I do hope that you are comfortable enough.”

He was taken aback, he had turned her chambers into his safe place so quickly that leaving almost felt dangerous to him. He looked at her and she looked at him with that look of distance that he knew so well but under that, and only for him to see, was a “sorry” written on her eyes.

He smiled and left his cup on the table. “My lady, I'm more than thankful for your trouble, hope someday I can repay the same hospitality I've received always here in Winterfell”.

Maester Wolkan bowed his head and left the room while Tyrion walked behind him. Before closing the door he shared a look with Sansa that brought everything that had happened between them back. And he made a gesture of complicity with his face that read _I do hope you find me later... with the content of that letter._

She couldn't resist a laugh.

 


	4. Sansa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deeply sorry for the long delay, work has made it impossible for me to keep a writing schedule. A big hug to anyone following this story, I'm going to update it soon this time.

 

Sansa walked down the hall, the fabric of her dress slightly tore the floor, her fingers felt the rough edge of the rolled paper in her hand. It was dark, only lit by torches on each side. As night fell it had begun to rain and the sound of the storm enveloped the castle. She loved those nights, felt that the rain gave her a feeling of being present in the moment, of reality happening here and now. And in this situation, going to the room she had assigned to Tyrion, helped her focus on the idea that he was there now, in her home, under her protection.

He had come for her, had come back _to_ her. He had seen terrible horrors and his first instinct was to come here seeking healing, choosing this place before even his own.

Her heart began to pound louder as she approached her destiny. She had sensations in her body that she thought she could never feel, but this man provoked feelings that were too strong, which agitated her and left her perplexed. How could she feel so attracted and so shaken by a man? She had convinced herself that the horrors of her own past had broken the most tender part of her heart, forcing her to cling to her humanity even after all, but diminishing her ability to love a man again. Again ... Or would it be for the first time?

Yes. How amazing it feels. She felt it like the closest thing to being drunk without drinking a drop. Some kind of giddy happiness.

She who thought she would never choose to have someone close again, that she could never trust, much less wish for or want anyone again. That no one would be worthy, because others in her past were not. That no one would be tender enough, that there could not exist the soul that conquered her as she dreamed when she read tales of maidens and brave knights.

Someone who surprises her, whom she admires.

And then there was Tyrion.

She realized the strength of the attraction that this man caused her when she saw him again after four long years. Years in which so many things happened and among everything she always had him in her thoughts. Not all the time, but once in a while, some nights she thought of him.

At the time they parted they occupied very different roles of power, they had been a married couple, submitted under Joffrey's cruelty. Now she received him in her ancestral home, recovered with blood and justice, and with the responsibility of being the maximum head of her family. He, Hand of a foreign queen, beautiful and kind at first sight but full of a fire that intrigued Sansa. She couldn't help but feeling jealous of Daenerys from the start. To think who this woman would be that would awaken such devotion on the part of Tyrion, enough to leave his family behind, his colors and his land became somewhat recurrent. She imagined scenes between them, in which he advised her while feeling inside infinite admiration and respect, and perhaps ... attraction? love? She hoped not. Why? Why did she care who he loved? She thought of him often. She was surprised at the insistence of these thoughts, remembering Tyrion in any situation, reading in the library, touring the market, after dining in her room while looking at the stars. His kind smile, his blue eyes, his gaze, his laugh, the color of his hair, the tone of his voice.

She finally realized, she was anxious. Eager to see him, to talk to him and receive his attention, for him to see the woman she had become. She wondered if he had thought of her, if perhaps on some moonlit night his thoughts had come across her name, if perhaps some night he dreamed of her, if perhaps he had missed her at some point.

When she saw him for the first time, she was in the grip of the formalities and the welcome protocol, too focused on taking the measure of the powerful Mother of Dragons, with whom his brother had made a pact and sworn allegiance. Too many things to handle and too many people watching for it to be the reunion she wanted. But as she crossed glances with him, her heart skipped a beat and she seemed to see a flash of complicity in his eyes. He was glad to see her again, she knew.

Finally they were face to face, he was the one that looked for her. In her talk she felt she wanted to tell him so many things but she didn't know how. And didn't know if she could. Undoubtedly the environment did not allow as much familiarity as she would have liked, they were on opposite sides, and both knew it. Even so there was an electricity in the air, like some sort of connection and a definite joy of seeing each other that they couldn't hide. But the game of thrones separated them, and prevented her from getting to her knees and hugging him and telling him that she never wanted to leave him at Joffrey's wedding, that he had been the best thing that had happened to her since she had arrived in the capital. Perhaps the best man of his life so far. That she had missed him.

Before he left with the army to King's Landing she had to restrain herself so as not to get sentimental and approach him. She thought about touching him, wanted to be brave and give him a hug, a kiss on his cheek, something to remember him by, but she held back. It would be easier if she just let it go and buried her feelings. If she only took her last conversation with him as something bureaucratic, something that needed to be done, telling him that Jon was a Targaryen so he could have all the options. But she planned to do it differently and he ended up surprising her while she was watching the dragons. And he surprised her once again by seeing right through her and worrying about her, making it difficult not to let him in with his tenderness. Could it be that he _did_ feel something for her? That dark night in the crypts she felt him so close, so connected to her for a moment, both so alive. It could not work between them, she had said. But perhaps deep down she wanted him to contradict her, to laugh it away with some sharp and shrewd comment that could leave her with a sparkle of hope. But he had chosen his queen. Even after kissing her hand in the crypts.  
So she let him go.

And now he was here, on the other side of the door. She knocked softly.

 

 

 

\--


	5. Tyrion

Tyrion was sitting on one of the sofas positioned next to the fire, in the center of his room. He had taken a long bath and felt totally renewed. His hair was wet still but the heart provided a very pleasant warmth to the place, which allowed him to be in that state in Winterfell, in Winter and not perish in the attempt.  
His whole body ached. He touched his beard and felt it so long and old, almost alien to his body, as if it were the symbol of an era that had passed. From an old self. "I must cut it soon" he thought while pouring himself some wine.

It had been a very long journey, in which he was in a constant state of nerves and stress, always looking over his shoulder, imagining hearing Drogon's wings flutters at every step and waiting to see Daenerys coming down from the sky from one moment to another. He slept most nights cross country, going cold and hungry. He also stayed in some inns whenever he could, always in dark and forgotten places, trying to go unnoticed, but even the comfort of a nice bed and a hot meal failed to bring him satisfaction. He could only think about what he just witnessed. It would be something he would never forget. His whole body tensed just remembering it. And he had run away, when it was too late to fix everything he had run away for his life.

On cold but starry nights, with a great moonlight that illuminated the entire sky, he tried to follow another stretch on horseback, with his legs numb but his soul resolved. Didn't want to waste a moment. The demonstration of violence he had experienced had reminded him of a painful truth. Death was close by, around every corner, as at hand as throwing a coin in the air and waiting to see which side it falls on. Seeing the end come for others made him think of his own death, of the fragility of life.

When he got on that horse he thought that he no longer knew anything for sure, that the safe and firm ground that he had traveled all his life as a Lannister today became quick, unstable, treacherous sands. Feeling his own end so close at hand in this world of atrocious randomness revealed a truth hidden for a long time.

What did he value most in his life? or rather... who? Who was the source of true light and happiness in his days? From who he always wanted to discover more of? and for who he was so sad to have separated from when they first were together.

Could he see her again? He had to try, it was the only thing that felt right, feeling his end so close he could only think of seeing her once more before he died, of taking her hand and kissing her, of looking at her deep and clear eyes, of being blessed with her beauty and hear her say his name one last time.

He stretched his legs, "I'm in Winterfell" he thought "I'm here at last, I've arrived on time". He was very sad and happy at the same time. Felt a kind of bittersweet feeling that made him very melancholic. He sighed. He felt sorry that he had bathed because he no longer smelled her essence in his fingers. When he reached his room he could only feel her scent surrounding everything. He threw himself on the bed like a young man in love, unable to contain his feeling, his heart was rising from his chest and his stomach was tight. He could not believe what had happened. Sansa had declared her love for him.

He bathed and ate the dinner they had brought him, wild boar stew, some cheeses and bread, while thinking of her all the time. It felt similar to when you wake up from a beautiful dream and still carry the feelings provoked on it.

His cup was empty and he leaned over to the table to serve himself some more. Looking at the fire, he seemed to see her hair dancing on it. Her red hair that had been between his fingers a few hours ago, sweet Sansa Stark, the most beautiful woman he ever saw. He thought of the shared looks when he saw her again after such a long time, how surprised he was for her maturity, for her imprint and her character, her intelligence and strength. He realized then he admired her.

In the crypts he realized that he loved her, while she told him the truth about his heroic plan that would have actually resulted in his early end. When she stopped in his gaze and a moment on his lips and then said that "it would not work between us" his heart skipped a beat. Had she thought of them two together then? Did she ever wanted to be with him, as a man and a woman? She used to think that he was the most clever of them all, she had told him, and although that was a symbol of admiration he never thought she could be attracted to him. He would be hers without hesitation, he knew in that instant, and forever if only she asked.

"Choose me, Tyrion". While resting halfway under a dirty blanket and with a sore back on the hard ground he thought about what would have happened if she asked him there, at that magical moment in the crypt, in front of everyone. He would have kissed her as if it were his last night in this world.

When the chaos broke out and the dead began to take on lives, they took refuge and in hiding he felt her hand searching for his and took it and placed it close to his heart. They looked at each other and in those seconds they said so many things that they had felt in all these years that they were separated. Perhaps they had been closer together than they thought. He realized at that moment that he adored her, that someone so beautiful could not die today and wither in this world of chaos. He would do anything to protect her.

He kissed her hand and wanted to print on that kiss everything he could not express in words.

The following nights he dreamed of her, every night until he finally departed with Daenerys and the Unsullied. At the feast of celebration for the end of the battle he wanted to approach her, but he did not find the moment, and inside, selfishly, he wanted to see if she started contact, if she looked for him, if she wanted to touch his hand once more and perhaps remember, even with a glance, the shared moment that had changed the two of them forever.  
He drank all night and looked at her from afar, stealing glances between the cups of the game he played with Jaime and Brienne. At times he felt her eyes on him and there was a second in which their eyes connected, he smiled and made a slight bow with his head to what she seemed to be taken off guard. She blushed and then quickly looked down at her hands entwined on the table.

Later that night, he walked drunk to his room fantasizing about finding her along the way. She would have went out for a night walk and found herself in the same place with him and alone at last. They would laugh and remember with some passing comment how lucky they were to survive together. Somehow he would end up stealing a kiss from her, in that cold Winterfell hall. It was a beautiful dream and he promised himself that before he left he would kiss her hand once more, because he was not sure he deserved a touch from her lips and was certain that she didn't want him, but would settle for feeling her skin at least, to feel her touch once more.  
In the end he did not and their interactions were less warm than he wanted. He realized that something had changed, as if Sansa had finally closed their story book and now he were just a man she used to be married to. Not even a friend.

That hurt deeply and as he walked away from the castle he could do nothing but think about her.

He would have died without telling her how he felt, without asking if perhaps by some miracle she felt the same way, if that connection that he felt between the two from the first moment they saw each other again was real, if she had been so excited as he. If she had been as eager to see him as he was to see her.

And now he had kissed her, in the real world this time, he had taken her by her clothes and had claimed her mouth, getting drunk with her essence, with her taste. He touched his lips lightly. And he felt so overwhelmed and so grateful that he couldn't help shedding a few tears.

He heard someone knock on the door, it would surely be one of the maids on duty coming to take the remains of dinner. He wiped the tears with his fingers and drank what was left in the cup until it emptied. He got up and went to the door. When he opened it, he saw that whoever was behind was no less than Sansa Stark.  
He smiled as he laid his eyes on hers, a smile of relief, full of joy. She blushed and smiled a small, somewhat nervous smile. Could she be more beautiful, perhaps?

"My lord," she said, making a small bow.

He grinned from ear to ear and with a gesture of his arm bowed as if to tell her to pass while he looked at her intensely.

“My lady ..." Took a step back to let her in.  
"I thought maybe I wouldn't see you today, it's a bit late" Tyrion said as he watched her walk and sit elegantly on one of the sofas. She was wearing a night gown with protective skins on the outside to keep the cold at bay, but with soft fabric on the inside, like a robe, comfortable and light. The neckline was pronounced and Tyrion swallowed before looking back into her eyes.

"Would you rather I go and let you rest?" Sansa asked, a little teasing and a little actually worried about his physical integrity.

"Never. I don't need sleep. What is that? Think about how much more time I could take advantage of and the things I could do if I never slept again. By now I would have six chains from the Citadel at least.”

He approached her and took her hand in his. His heart seemed to come out of his chest when he felt the contact of her skin with his. He looked at her and then kissed the back of her hand while closing his eyes. He heard her exhale surprised. When their eyes connected he saw the fire reflected in her gaze. An inexplicable tenderness that connected them and they both knew it, just as they had once faced each other, today they were on the same side.

"Tyrion ..." she said as she stroked his hand with her thumb and sighed.

He smiled as he watched her spellbound. For a moment he sensed apprehension in her eyes and feared what she could say next.

"You haven't offered me wine" she finally said.

A laugh escaped his lips. "But My lady, how thoughtless of me, could you forgive me?" He said as he reached for a glass and poured the dark liquid. He placed the cup near her and as he looked at her again he spoke: "What's wrong?"

Sansa looked down and just there he could see what she had in her hands, a scroll of parchment. The sigil shone as it was lit by the flames.

It was a red dragon with three heads.

 

 

\--


	6. Sansa

Tyrion looked at the sigil, stopping for a few seconds while processing what it meant, then he put his eyes back on her.

“Let me bet, is someone inviting us for dinner? Or to a big party maybe?” He said with a sad smile, tilting his head to the side.

She looked at him. The fire generated a backlight on his face that made him look mature and very handsome, highlighting his eyes and the color of his hair. But she did not enjoy that concern she saw reflected on his face. His eyes twinkled and he still held her hand. She gave him a slight squeeze and then released him to take the full glass of wine instead.

She took a long sip, savoring it. Tyrion didn't take his eyes off her and noticed a flash in his eyes that was no longer melancholy, if not a different flame, one that burned for her.  
She liked that very much. With each expression she seemed to feel that Tyrion was in the palm of her hand.  
But the truth is that it was she who was in his.

"Daenerys is summoning us." She said as she brought the scroll of parchment "Call us to leave for Kings Landing to bend the knee and pay our respects to the new Protector of the Realm."

Tyrion took the letter and read the message carefully.

 

_Queen Daenerys Targaryen, First of Her Name, invites you to King's Landing to bend the knee and swear allegiance to the rightful heir of the Iron Throne._

_Sansa, we had our differences but I am willing to leave everything in the past, where it belongs. The North is a very important part of this beautiful Kingdom and I am glad that a strong woman such as you could be Warden of it, if Jon decides to stay here._  
_I trust dearly in your brother and believe him when he says that your heart is on the right side, but nevertheless I need to hear it from you._

_This is written from my own hand, as my most trusted advisor seems to have vanished. Is there any chance you have news of him? Has your former husband turned north to seek comfort?_

_If he is there with you, would yo be so kind as to bring him to me? I will gladly repay you and your people for this gift. Winterfell has suffered a great deal during the Long Night and I would be honored to help rebuilding such pillar of the community._

_South and north can be allies as long as the line of power is respected. All is well again in the Realm and I trust that we can build a bright future._  
_Our future, together._

 _I expect you marching here in under a fortnight._  

 

_Disregard this message and a great river of blood could run, cold as Winter._

 

A shiver ran trough his spine. She already knew.

“We knew this day would come.” Sansa said “I knew it even before you left, while you worried about what might happen to me if I stood up against Daenerys. You were afraid _for me_ , and at that moment I was afraid of her. That she could inspire you such a feeling. ”

She looked at him with a mixture of sweetness and sadness that shattered him.

"And that you still loved her" she said as she rose from the sofa and walked slowly to the window. The diffuse moonlight entered through it, outside the rain was rising mercilessly. Thunder was heard in the distance.

The sound of the storm outside seemed to echo in Tyrion's heart, which he felt broken for a moment.

"I don't love her" he said, shaken.

He had been petrified in the same place she had left him.

"I ..." He looked around the room, not knowing what he was searching for, perhaps the right words? The exact feelings? "... The truth is that I felt admiration for her, necessary to want to serve a queen, I had to believe in her ideals, in her cause."

Silence, except for the crackling of the fire and the rain surrounding them.  
Tyrion's heart squeezed.

"For a moment I felt attraction for her, I will not deny it." Sansa was still at the window, not looking at him. His heart was beating fast. “As well as respect, she had all of that from me. Because of the things she had done for her people... for wanting to make the world a better place, as naive as it sounds.”

“But now I realize that I never loved her, because I really did not know her fully. I never thought possible for such a change in her soul to take form.”

“Recent events have made her human quality, her true ideals, very clear. I won't justify it nor can I explain it. Even though my hands are not clean, I could never love someone who showed such madness and violence against so many innocent people. ”

Sansa did not seem satisfied with his response, she looked at the fire and was thoughtful for a moment before saying:

“When I saw you here for the last time I thought that maybe I could convince you, that there was more than light and magic in her. Because I thought I've also seen a certain darkness.” She looked at him again “But I couldn't make you stay with me ”

"And for that I will regret my whole life," he said looking at her.

"It looks like I wasn't enough."

“You are much more than enough, Sansa. You are the sun and the stars, you are what poets write when they think about love.” He said as he looked at the floor, as if he was not worthy of looking at her.

She blushed.

"But then again ..." he continued "... _you_ turned _me_ down. You said we wouldn't work together” Tyrion said as a smile formed on his lips similar to what he gave her when they had that conversation in the first place. "I don't blame you, it's just ... you kind of broke my heart."

“And I told you exactly why. I knew you felt more than devotion for her, but I didn't want to believe it, even if it was obvious.”

Sansa looked down at her hands

“I know it's selfish, you had a lifetime away from me, full of emotions and moments shared with others. You have walked the earth longer than me. And you are a great man, anyone would be lucky to be by your side. It was ridiculous to think that maybe you yearned to be with me, that maybe I could have some place in your thoughts despite the distance and the years that passed.”

She turned to look at him as she sat on the window sill “After all, the last time you saw me I was an uninteresting girl, to say the least... ”

He looked at her and seemed to see through her. Understanding her completely.

"You always knew what I felt for you," he said in his voice more serious than ever. “Even when I myself didn't know, even with our arranged marriage, forced upon us ... you were Sansa Stark, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. And you showed a sweetness and an intelligence while we shared a home, a beautiful empathy. For me, for everyone around you, even with all the elements against you, calling home an unsafe place. I liked you from the first moment we met, but I understood that because of your situation you couldn't be as real as you wanted and maybe we could have connected more deeply but in that time it wasn't possible.”

"I was always sad, crying." Sansa said.

"You had every right to be." He looked at her wanting her to understand "Terrible pain and injustice inflicted on a lady forced to marry someone _in_ the family who caused those same injustices in the first place."

Lightning illuminated the room as they looked at each other.

Tyrion took his glass from the table and emptied it in his mouth with a throw, pulling his head slightly back. It was almost full and he took his time enjoying the drink. Sansa watched him as the cup touched his lips and her eyes stopped at his bearded neck and his throat rising and falling as he drank the wine. That image excited her in a way she could not fully understand. She wanted this man too much.

"But that was not the right time for us anyway," he said as he left his glass now empty on the table "... I also think I remember hearing you say that you would never want to share my bed."

She looked at him and saw him hurt, though smiling as he held her gaze, as if blaming her for nothing.

She thought about how naive she had been, how inexperienced, rejecting the unknown, fearing, what? who? If she had realized how much the man was worth in front of her at that time, perhaps the story would have been different. Maybe they could have played the game together.

“I didn't know what I was really saying” Sansa said, “I was a girl discovering the world, discovering myself. I didn't know what I wanted ... not even what appealed to me. ”

He inhaled sharply. Looked deeply worried.

“Sansa, you were always on my mind. Whenever I received news from you, I felt a thrill of excitement and relief that I once attributed to the desire to protect you, like your husband. ” He said as he approached a few steps, close enough that she could better appreciate his face.

His lips were stained with wine and his eyes intense, suddenly somewhat dark. He sat halfway on a stool almost two feet away from her.

“And when the news of your marriage to Ramsey reached my ears, I couldn't help feeling very bad, in fact I was depressed almost a full week. How childish of me... I felt rejected by you, who logically chose a younger and handsome man over me.” He said sighing  
“I knew that would happen eventually, in fact I was surprised that you didn't abandon me before that.” This last thing he said with a smaller voice, almost to himself.

In his tone she guessed all his insecurity carried with him throughout a life, with his body, with his features. Didn't he understand that he was probably the most handsome man she had ever seen? Certainly the most charming. The most alluring, those eyes, that voice, those hands. She held to every word spoken by him as if she were under his spell.

His hair was falling over his face, his gaze in the shadows, hand stroking his beard. He continued

“I imagined you together, the two beautiful, being happy, fulfilling your roles as lord and lady. Having children. I envied him. Reluctantly I confirmed that I not only wanted to protect you, that perhaps there was something else that kept me drawn to you, despite not even knowing if I would have the opportunity to see you again one day.” He shook his head as frightened even that this thought could have ever come true. "Either way, as the days went by I told myself that if you were happy then it was the right thing, you deserved to feel happy more than anyone else in this world." Their eyes found each other.

"But the hardest thing, I must confess...” he spoke while he held her gaze “... was to stop calling you _'my wife'_ , if only in my thoughts ..."  
The corners of his lips rose a little.

Sansa felt a flutter of something unknown on her belly as her breathing rose.

He looked at her for a moment in silence, as if apologizing “How crude was my horror when I found out what really happened and the kind of human being, no, forgive me My Lady, of piece of shit he turned out to be.” He said this words as if spitting them. “The poorest and lowest excuse of a man. ”  
His eyes shone.

"And how much pain it caused you ..." His face contracted and his brows furrowed, he locked eyes with her "I wish I could erase everything."

She swallowed. She wanted to break down and tell Tyrion everything, crumble and cry on his shoulder, on his chest, in his embrace. Fall asleep in his arms while he whispered in her ear that everything was alright and that it would be that way forever. But at the same time she held back, since she did not want to weaken before those memories to be hurt, she wanted them to make her strong from now on. To learn and be reborn from pain, without suffering again at every moment because it has happened. What had already been written could not be erased, the ink was dry. And she didn't want to stain this moment with Tyrion, she was alone with him in her home, a rainy night of her favorites. Everything was fine in Winterfell, Ramsey wouldn't come in here to obscure everything.

"I want it too, Tyrion"

“Please know that you can tell me anything. If you want to share your burden, I am here. ”

She smiled, a wide smile this time, which illuminated the entire room.

  
"I know, thank you. And maybe someday I will. But for now, let's keep the monsters at bay. ”

He smiled and watched her for a moment, understanding, before saying very seriously  
“I will gladly put trough the sword anyone daring to disrupt this night for you, Sansa.” His expression immediately changed to one of half-amused doubt. "Well, maybe not through a literal sword, the sword of the mind will be better, of cunning, I could defeat anyone in a game of riddles, you know?" He said with a devilish smile.

She laughed out loud, and he felt a warmth run through his body. He would do whatever it took to bring that out from her again.

“I am so very glad to see you again” she said. Her eyes shone again. The sound of rain enveloped the silence between them. They both smiled.

He sighed, like someone who sees something very beautiful that is just out of reach "So very glad but you are still testing me." His brows furrowed. “Did I loved her? Did I not? Did I thought of you? Did I preferred you above her when you were in my dreams? ”

"Did you...? dreamed with me? ”

He was silent for a while, pensive.

“Before, you appeared to me from time to time and stayed with me trough out the day, once I'd awoken.” Said with a deep voice, while looking the drops that fell fiercely along the window glass.

“After seeing you again” Tyrion's expression watching her was overwhelming and in that moment she seemed to forget how to breath “All the time I was thinking of you. In the sunshine of the sun, in a corner of the sky, in a look from you, I dreamed. In the desire, in the blessed darkness. I had come back to that moment with you, kissing your hand, in a ring of fire with my glorious inmunity, only to revive and melt me once again in the echo of the sea that rumbles in your eyes. Yes I dreamed of you, and I dreamed of you, and I dreamed of you, one more time.”

“Tyrion...”

"Sansa..."

They were tears in her eyes. It all happened so fast, she knelt down, almost breaking down into him, while he stood up and took her face in his hands. Their lips met, hungrily. They fit in as if they were made to be together and in that kiss he conveyed every dream, every night spent thinking of her. She buried her hands on his hair and tasted the wine on his tongue. They kissed deeply, passionate and slowly, savouring every second. The storm outside shaking them up even more, seemed to be synchronized with their lips and tongues. He captured her lower lip with his and gentle sucked on it, while caressing her cheek with his fingers. Suddenly his mouth followed and kissed her cheek in search for her neck. Once he found it she had to clung to his clothes for support. She buried her head in the crook of his neck, gasping quietly while he lightly sucked and teased her earlobe.

“Tyrion...” she whispered.

He backed down from her face traveling the same road he had just made with fresh kisses, smaller this time, but intense all the same. They parted enough as to see themselves reflected in each other eyes.

“Do not abandon me any longer.” she spoke, pleadingly.

His eyes shone so bright.

“Never”

 

 

 

\--


	7. Tyrion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Hope everyone had a happy end/start of the year. To my readers, I'm very sorry to submit you to my awful update schedule. It's been really difficult with work getting the time to write and improve the chapters. Anyway, hope to come back soon. Thanks to all reading, and to everyone writing Tyrion/Sansa fics. Love for all.

"Never" he said.

They pressed they're forheads together, resting on each other. Sansa was almost surrendered in his arms, as if she had suddenly passed out and he'd catched her on the brink of falling. So she was a little below her eye level, while he held her firmly on a tight embrace and looked straight into her Tully blue eyes.

“I can't believe this is happening.” Tyrion spoke, his voice sounding like the voice of a man who has moved away from society and speaks for the first time after years have passed. His eyes went from side to side over hers.

Sansa had one arm around Tyrion's back for support and the other one ended in her hand cupping his neck from behind. She backed away a bit, just enough so that she could see his face more clearly. His eyes, the storm made them stand out in a special way, the color in them seemed almost green and clear, incandescent, resembling the Valyrian fire. She felt much younger than usual, accustomed to living wearing her severity as an armor had resigned part of that innocence of age. She thought then that there was nothing that could surprise her or that she couldn't handle.  
How wrong she was.

The two were almost breathless, he held her as if she were the most delicate thing in the world, but very firmly. She was for him love itself, in his arms, in this room, all the way up in the north. They searched in each other eyes for a couple of minutes, he was waiting for her to speak, to give any sign that what was going on was still real, that he was not being the object of any reverie or bewitchment.

"Tyrion, I ..." She bit her lip "I've wanted you for so long, can hardly believe you are here. That I brought out of you such words, such sentiment ...” She said all this while still being half deflated in his arms. Her voice could be heard as if she were intoxicated, their noses a span away. They both had shortness of breath and their hearts beat hard.

He sighed and couldn't help claiming those red, swollen and seductive lips again. He had her before him so devoted to him, opening her heart and giving him her confidence. He kissed her as if he were discovering how to do it for the first time, exploring the sensation of the playfullness of his lips and his tongue over hers. They went from unbridled, unleashed kisses, where their tongues danced furiously, to deliciously slow, firm, intense ones. Their lips being the only contact, perhaps a few strokes of their tongues baptized the end of each kiss.  
Each time kissing more slowly, Tyrion's hand ran gently across the skin of her neck until he found the seam of her gown and followed it as he went down to the valley of her breasts.

At the contact, Sansa, without breaking his kiss, took his hand in hers and gently squeezed it. Then she extended his palm and placed his open hand on the center of her chest, on the skin that showed her dress. He could feel the uncontrolled beat of her heart.  
She then separated her lips from his to look him in the eye. Hers were more blue than ever, the light from the lightning outside was reflected. She seemed nervous.

"Tyrion" she looked him in the eye again, but the desire had almost become a request for forgiveness.

"My lady, what is it?" He said as he gently ran a strand of hair from her face. “Am I being too forward? Forgive me, I feel so much that I don't know very well how to control it. ”

“You are being perfect. Absolutely perfect” she said, still melted in his arms, holding his hand firmly against her chest. There was something about that contact that made her feel more secure than she had ever been. "It's just ..." She looked down.

"Tell me please."

"If I'm being honest ... I have mixed emotions, on one hand I want to never be free of this embrace" she said holding his gaze. "But ... everything has been so fast, yesterday my expectations for today were very different and now... I have you here in my arms." She smiled, hiding a laugh "I thought of you and you appeared, it was almost as if I conjured you."

Tyrion let out a laugh "If we only knew!" he exclaimed for the room, as if addressing a non-existent audience. "Then I would have prayed for you to speak my words much sooner," he said then only to her, looking at her with eyes overflowing of sweetness and determination.  
His hand was still on Sansa's chest, giving her warmth and her hand on his. Sansa was especially beautiful. With the storm outside and the firelight of the room, the place where they were was almost dim, so he was seeing her in blue and cold tones, while the fire seemed to highlight her eyes and the color of her hair, making them look more rich and intense in color. And her lips, and her cheeks as well.  
He sighed.

"Sansa ..."

"Tyrion ..."

"I know what you mean, I've just arrived and hope to be here a few more days, under your protection" he said and then he put his lips on hers for a heartfelt moment, then backing away and smiling. “There will be plenty of time for us catching up.”

“Thank you, it will be. It's been ... quite a lovely night.” She said taking his hand and kissing it as he did in the crypts while looking into his eyes. Tyrion immediately turn on fire.  
Then they kissed, a 'goodbye for now' kiss, a 'I won't stop thinking about you for the foreseable future' kiss.  
Tyrion slowly extricated himself from her embrace and she stood up.  
Outside the thunders had stopped, but the same copious rain fell incesantly.  
They looked at each other and in their smiles a special complicity was drawn.

“You know, I love nights like this, they are my favorite ones.” she said looking out the window at the impressive storm outside.

“This _is_ my favorite night.” he blurted out, admiring her.

She blushed and a small smile adorned her lips.

"I hope you find these chamber comfortable, it is not a very elegant setting since you took me by surprise, but maybe tomorrow I can move you to a bigger room." She said going back to her usual regal self.

“They are perfect, my lady. In my actual state of being and how tired I am, I'm sure that this bed is more delightful than any other at this moment, this fire the most welcoming. Thank you for your kindness.” He said bowing a little, more a 'I´m at your service' than a bow of pure formality.

She nodded and headed for the door, then turn to look at him and smiled a shy, half smile. Before opening the door and leaving without saying a word, with Tyrion's heart in his hand.

He was shaken, he could hardly contain so much emotion in his body. With trembling hands he took off his shoes and put on the bedding. Slowly he got himself into bed and under the covers. The fabric against his skin felt so clean, warm and cozy.

 _“I'm at Winterfell”_ he thought _“I've just kissed Sansa Stark.”_ He looked at the canopy and the embroided wolfs in there all the time thinking in the smell of her skin, the burnin marks that she left on his lips . _“I've should have asked to escort her to her chambers.”_ Thought replaying the night on his head, then thinking that she of course knew Winterfell like the back of her hand, and as the strong woman that she was, could easily return safely on her own accord. He almost could hear her saying those words to him.  
He smiled and stretched on the bed, getting comfortable, turning around and covering with the pelts.

He was so unbelievable tired. Having spent so many nights sleeping in beds of dubious quality and cross country, on mountains of grass, his back and body were totally sore and exhausted. He felt the fatigue fall on him and crave for sleeping three days in a row.

He thought of Sansa until he fell asleep, there was only one moment when the image of a dragon's shadow over a city passed through his head, darkening everything.

 

\------------

 

The next morning arrives and with the daylight a knock on Tyrion's door wakes him from a deep sleep. A maid opens the door a few centimeters, enough for her voice to carry trough.

"Sorry, My Lord, I have come to wake you up and communicate to you Lady Stark's message that you are invited to break your fast with everyone in the great hall." She said shyly, looking at the floor, not wanting to get into the privacy of Lord Lannister who had just arrived.

Tyrion sat up a little trying to shake his mind from the dullness of sleep and take his face off from the pillow.

"Oh, yes, of course, I will go in a moment." He definitely felt the face marked by the pillow, he felt like he would sleep six more hours if given the chance. His eyes were closing again.

"My Lord, Lady Stark also said that if you were still very tired from travelling it would be perfectly understandable that you stay in your room and in that case, ask me what you want me to bring you."

He opened his eyes. He turned and used his elbows to separate a little from the bed. _Sansa_. He wanted to see her and thank her kindly for receiving him. Above all, he wanted to see in her eyes the same desire he saw last night, to reaffirm the reality of everything.

"No, no, thanks, I will change and get off as soon as I can, thank you for waking me up."

He heard the door close and jumped out of bed thinking that if he didn't do it quickly his spirit would falter. He changed and combed as he could, trying to appear presentable. He felt a savage since he had escaped from King's Landing, as if something animal in him had woken up and helped him get to Winterfell. It was time to return to society, to return to the human world. To love.

He went down the stairs and stone passageways until he reached the great hall. Maids came and went with jugs and plates of food, tables full of northern families broke the fast happily together. There was a pleasant murmur, the light entered golden curtains from the windows and in the tumult he visualized the main table in the back of the room. He saw several familiar faces but they were all diffuse until he found a couple of blue eyes that nailed him to the floor. She was radiant, freshly awoken and all. He saw her open her mouth slightly overwhelmed by the sensation of his gaze on her and she looked away, smiling slightly and blushing.

Tyrion felt a wave of emotion for generating that little gesture that in her, at this moment, meant so much. He stopped looking at her despite himself and walked the way to the family table where there was an empty seat next to Brienne, waiting for him. As he arrived he saw the other diners, to Brienne's right, Bran, then Sansa, Lord Royce and ser Davos, who looked at him with an inquiring look raising an eyebrow with a half smile dancing on his lips. Something in his eyes seemed scrutinizing and for a second he knew that he had seen the crossing of looks with Sansa a few moments ago. Damn you insightful Ser Onion Knight.

"Good morning." Brienne said without looking at him, with an accusing tone and in a completely defensive way. He was protecting Sansa even in the way she spoke.

"Good morning to you, my Lady, or should I said 'Ser'?" He said smiling, grabbing a fork to start swallowing what for him at this time was a delicacy, he had stopped all the maids and had served himself oatmeal pancakes with honey, northern fruits and nuts, eggs and ham. He was lucky to find the last rye bread. He earned it by coming down late, he told himself.

After a few minutes, he realized that Brienne had not taken his eyes off him and watched him eat quickly with a face of complete shock. "Have you not eaten in a month?" She said, frowning.

"Actually, I have eaten, sometimes very well indeed, but other times, some foods have eluded me and other times I got dinner sketches, that where never a whole meal, rather like a hard bread with a soup of dubious origin and then coming back to not eating for a day." He swallowed a piece of glazed ham and then looked at her. "I've been cold and hungry, believe me that the road here was not a bed of roses, knight." He said looking at her firmly but still smiling a little.

“So what are you doing coming north to start with? Aren't you supposed to be supporting Daenerys right now? And if you don't support her anymore after what happened, what the hell are you doing here, where you know she'll find you? Why not go to across the sea, as far away as possible?” Brienne said all this very quickly, speaking the words closely together and in a low voice, just so he could hear her. Lord Royce laughed across the table from a comment made by Sansa, and Tyrion couldn't help looking at her. A ray of light struck the hand that rested on the table and seemed to give it an angelic tone, as if it had magic in her fingers.

"HELLO," said Brienne, sticking her head in front of his field of vision and narrowing her eyes while saying "Am I speaking to no one here?"

"Hm, sorry, excuse me My Lady, I've just woken up, I implore you forgive me for my mind it´s only slowly starting to work correctly ..." he sighed and then said, speaking in a more personal tone "Brienne, if you wish to discuss this further I would be happy to oblige, but not here, not now, it´s a far too truculent story."

"I get why you ran away, I don't get why you came here, of all places." She withdrew her threatening stance and resumed her breakfast, cutting an egg while saying "Something doesn't fit ..."

He blinked and took his fork and knife to bring some food to his mouth.

“Maybe you came for her. That would explain it.” She said.

He stopped his hand with the honeyed cakes a palm from his mouth. Tyrion turned around slowly his head towards Brienne, a little taken aback. "For _who_ ...?" He said narrowing his eyes.

Brienne cut a piece of bread abruptly with both her hands and then dipped it into the runny yolk of her egg, all while Tyrion watching her. She chewed a little and then said, with her mouth still full of food “You know who.” And then looked at him and in her eyes she seemed to conveyed the words she didn't want to speak out loud.

He swallow hard. They continued to eat in silence, both of them looking to the front. There was a moment, with all the empty plates and everyone about to get up from the table, when he dared to look at Sansa and admired her a few moments while she watched the crowded room. She seemed to feel his gaze and her eyes fell on his. They shared a brief moment of an intense look. A loud cough startled him and he realized that it was Brienne. She gave him a knowing look. Then she and the rest of the table, except Bran, got up to continue their days.

Sansa went out through one of the hall's door, engaged in wich seemed a very serious conversation with Lord Royce and closely followed by Brienne. Davos moved toward the yard while whistling a tune. Tyrion noticed that he had stayed alone with Bran at the table and when he located him he realized that he was staring directly at him.

“Lord Stark, you must be surprised to find me here. I hope I don't intrude in your home. ”

Bran looked at him blankly “One does not watch with surprise the incessant crush of the waves of the sea. The driving force of your travel here is another expected movement reflected in the never ending stream that is life and therefore it should'nt bring me any concern. ”

Tyrion spoke almost without believing what he was listening to, the dispossession and estrangement of Bran's humanity never ceased to surprise him.  
“Expected movement? … You knew I were to come back here? ”

Silence. Suddenly Podrick appeared and stood surprised for a moment, seeing his friend sitting in front of him when he knew he should be all the way down in the south. "My ... My Lord. Pleased to see you.”

"Always a pleasure to see you, Pod." He said smiling at him. They exchanged a look in which it read that they would talk in detail later. Tyrion understood that he was there to take care of Bran and maybe drive him around, or leave him sitting under the old heart tree for a change.

Podrick took the handles of the chair and before turning completely to leave the enclosure, Bran looked at Tyrion and turning a little said "He's still alive." Then he turned his head and went with his companion to the yard.

Tyrion was left in shock sitting at the empty table. Remains of crumbs were left all over the place while the girls raked the wood in front of him. With his eyes staring at nothing in the distance he thought _'...Jamie? Still alive? Does that mean that he barely made it? How much longer will it last alive? And then... Cérsei?'_ Someone dropped a tray and with the clashing sound reality came back to him.

He stopped one of the maids on her tracks and said "Please, would you be so kind as to bring me any wine you can find in the kitchens?"  
He heard himself tired. Very tired.

 

 

 


	8. Sansa

 

It was a sunny day in Winterfell, cold but bright. The rain had stopped during the night and the good drainage system added to the power of the sun made it possible to enjoy nature. Sansa had finished her informational meeting of the day and was about to take a walk around the park. She had heard what Lord Royce had to tell her about the current state of food, firewood and wheat supplies and his opinion about the work of certain men rebuilding the walls of the fortress. In spite of everything they still had good numbers, they just had to be careful. They were still standing. Master Wolkan gave her details of the latest news that had reached his ears as well as the scrolls received from other houses. Everyone worked in the castle, they knew that given the state of the situation they should put their best effort to recover from all the injuries suffered.

  
The Long Night was still very present throughout the community, the horrendous cries of the Others and the fear of being consumed by so much darkness existed below the surface. The cuts made were seen on the walls, in collapsed and broken buildings, in those who were missing and fell fighting.

She thought of King's Landing, and what they would be facing, the people who lived there, those who remained after the destruction of the city. Everything here felt so far away, as if the rise of the Dragon Queen were just a story sung by a minstrel in a tavern.  
She thought of her, her white hair and her grim gaze, sitting on the Iron Throne with the powerful dragon perched beside her, wrapping her around. The semi-destroyed throne room. And Jon? Would he be by her side too, with his hand on her shoulder? She wondered then what would he would do if Daenerys claimed Sansa's head, if she wanted to set it on fire, would he act? The Jon she knew would do it, even if it cost him everything. But she didn't know if she knew him at all now. Not after what happened.  
People change, just like the seasons.

She breathed in the fresh air and enjoyed watching the sun sneak through the leaves of the trees. She moved away from the busiest part, where men came and went with pieces of wood under their arms and wagons with rocks. She passed through an arcade heavily covered by snow, had to bend down a little, to reach a special section she knew of the courtyard, more private. A bench between two trees was waiting for her, and sitting on it was a man she knew. Her heart skipped a beat.

He had a bottle of wine in his hand and was sitting looking at the sky. From his mouth escaped the hot air that collided with the cold creating a very seductive mist. His exposed neck extended upward, his golden hair falling over his eyes. He seemed to be watching a flock of crows on high. She wanted to stare at him like that, without him knowing.

"Look who I found here, in my special place" she said playfully.

Tyrion jumped a little with surprise and lowered his eyes looking for where the voice came from. His face lit up when he saw who it was.

"My lady ..." he said, jumping off the bench to receive her. He made a gesture with his hand pointing to the available place next to him. "Would you care to join me?"

His seductive eyes melted her, she thought she had delayed her encounter with Tyrion for this exact reason, she had obligations and responsibilities but she knew that just by seeing him she would leave everything aside to spend time with him.

“Of course, I have hardly spent time with my guest and I don't want to appear rude. I want you to feel at home, my lord, ”she said as she approached to him, taking steps through the soft snow.

They were surrounded by bushes and vines that covered all the walls, they were coated by big piles of fresh snow. The plants protected them from the outside, creating a safe place for them. In the middle of the courtyard, there was the bench under the shade of the two trees, a cool breeze was running and the light fell on the snow in small drops.  
He didn't take his eyes off her while she sat down, then resumed his place next to her.

They looked at each other and smiled, then looked the other way, somewhat awkwardly . It was the first time they were together in the sunlight, in the day. There was a palpable tension between them.

"So ..." Tyrion said "Forgive me for not seeking you out before my lady. Something happened and I felt absolutly necessary to get my hands on some of your fine wine. I needed to clear my head and I decided to take a stroll and find someplace quiet.” She noticed his wine-stained lips and his smiling but grim expression. He looked into the distance, he seemed sore. And somewhat tipsy.

"Please forgive me Tyrion, I should have looked for you and showed you the castle, you are my guest." She said as he smiled as if worshiping her, unable to believe she was apologizing for anything. "I needed to solve some problems and attend a meeting but I'm here, I'm all yours." She placed her hand on his. Looking straight into his eyes she said "What's wrong?"

He took her hand in his, stroking her skin with his thumb. He frowned.  
“Maybe I am overthinking everything too much and I should let events unfold. That is to say, I am very far from everything that happened and I cannot solve anything from here.”

"What happened?"

He looked at her and then offered her wine, she whispered "Later" and kept waiting for an answer. Then he drank some more, the bottle almost half empty.

"Your brother happened." He said. Then he stretched and moved a little on his side of the bench, resting his back on the tree that framed them, but not before bringing Sansa's hand to his lips for a quick kiss. The hairs on her body bristled at the contact, though brief, of his lips on her skin.

“Bran made an ambiguous comment when we were alone at breakfast earlier today. I assume he can only refer to Jaime who is the one who worries me the most right now…” He looked at his hands in his lap, one holding the bottle of wine. "The destruction I saw, the excessive force, may well have destroyed the entire Red Keep... it's easy to think they didn't make it." His heart squeezed. Even for Cérsei and her unborn child.

"They?" Sansa said already imagining what had happened.

He looked at her "They ..." and nodded. They were silent for a few seconds until Tyrion spoke again. “I arranged for a ship to be waiting for them under the Red Keep, they've had to went pass the underground floor where they put the skulls of the dragons. I knew the way because I had done it myself once and so I explained my brother the way out. I expected them to take the boat and sail away from here, and start a new life... together, if that was what he really wanted.” He cleared his throat. “Cérsei was pregnant.”

Sansa inhaled hard not giving credit to her ears.

“I've always hated her, she hated me since I was born and therefore didn't leave me much choice. But knowing that little detail gave me a compassion that I didn't know I could feel for her. I wanted her to live, if possible. At least I wanted Jaime to come to her aid... because I thought that was what he wanted, that his love for her was so strong even after their separation... Now remembering everything I'm not sure, maybe he felt a sense of obligation to his son, maybe he wanted to save her but not be with her like that...”  
He looked at the heavens again, another flock of crows was passing over their heads. "I don't know," he said finally.

She sighed, of course everything that had happened had him mad. The destruction of the city but also the possible loss of his brother and sister. The recent decisions he'd made that had helped Daenerys. Varys and his death. Everything weighed on Tyrion's conscience, everything was on his shoulders. She wanted to protect him from the outside world, heal his wounds and assure him that everything would be fine. That he would also heal.

"What did Bran say exactly?" Sansa said

He swallowed "He's still alive." She watched as he looked down and began to lose himself in his thoughts.

"Well, there you have it." She said "He's alive."

Tyrion looked at her as if he couldn't believe the simplicity of her statement, the conviction. He believed her immediately, it sounded like the truth on her lips.

"He's alive, Bran must have seen something and I don't think he would have told you if he had seen him die minutes later, that means he's alive today, somewhere." She said as she looked up to glimpse the highest clouds between the sun rays. "I'm sure he'll contact you as soon as he can." She said looking back at him and smiling. Now she believed it too, her words sounded truthful.

Tyrion was very still, staring at her, her hair of fire lit in parts by the sun, her bright eyes that told him something very reasonable that healed his heart and eased his chest. His eyes got wet.

"Thank you" he whispered. "Thank you, really, I'm going to choose to believe you because it fits perfectly in my current narrative." He said in a lighter tone, smiling for the first time in a long while and exhaling a sigh that he didn't know he was holding.

"Good." She said, as if ending the matter. She smiled broadly and her smile seemed to illuminate everything around them. She infected Tyrion and he smiled even more, laughing a little. He brought the wine to his lips as he looked straight at her.

"You said this was your special place, I hope I haven't exceeded any limits." He said playfully.

She was surprised at the attention he always paid to her, that he remembered all the details. She looked around, drinking in the view.

“I used to come here when I was younger, sometimes I wanted to be in a slightly quieter place, with so many brothers the hustle and bustle is something of everyday. One day exploring I found this small space, as it can only be accessed through that somewhat hidden archway, it gave me a feeling of my own place, as if I only knew this secret.” She looked at him again “It is also one of the few places to which the castle windows don't look upon, making it even more hidden. The bench and the trees, all untouched, always received me whenever I wanted to come and find my peace.”

Tyrion looked at her spellbound, his body filled with tenderness to know this new piece of her.

“I feel very lucky to be sharing this with you.” He said sincerely, in his deep voice.

Sansa looked at him, his intense gaze seemed to bare her soul. The sun was glimmering from his wild hair and beard, his light eyes seemed almost golden. His lips, his hands. Suddenly anxiety took part of her body, she thought then that she could not separate from him again. Even thinking about not having him around made her sad. Not seeing him tomorrow.  
She thought of Daenerys ... she still had to make a decision about her. But she would never end up with Tyrion in her hands, if necessary she would send him away, even if that meant their final separation. She preferred to see him alive rather than tied to her and her home and her titles.  
He would be fine, it was herself who worried her.

"You are pensive, are you also worried about something?" He said as he took another sip of wine and moved a little to be closer to her again.

She smiled shyly. "I was thinking..." she said as she looked at him more closely now. She felt his smell of wine and the perfume of his skin. “… How long will you be here with me? Maybe you have plans to go somewhere. ”

His lips curved a little while he said “My lady, are you kicking me out? Is my presence so unbearable?” In a jocular tone.

Sansa smiled and then made a little pout while saying quietly "On the contrary, I want you to be here."

Tyrion moved closer to her, his chest rising and falling. He looked at her as if she were the only woman he had ever seen. The most beautiful.

"I am currently a homeless man" he said "so today this castle in the north is the most beautiful and safe place I could wish for." He looked at her "Especially because of your presence, _Lady of Winterfell_." he spoke just for her ears. His intense gaze and the way he pronounced her title, as if he were enjoying it immensely, made her blush and feel a tingling sensation at the tip of her ears.

"You like to remember my position, are you looking to benefit from my power in some way, my lord?"

“I like to pronounce all the words that have to do with you. I like how they rolled off my tongue.” He said without breaking their gaze. She could tell he was more uninhibited than usual for having been drinking. The combination of his words added to the way he looked at her and the tone of his voice made her lose her head. Forgetting that maybe someone could cross the archway and found them, she said

“Oh really? You spent a lot of time without naming me, it seems that such pleasure eluded you for many years.”  
Their heads slowly approached, their bodies attracted to each other.

“But now here you are, in my life again. Like _Winterfell_. And the _north_..." Tyrion uttered each word as if they were a mouthful of something exquisite and slowly, taking his time "... and the _Starks_..." came a little closer to her _"Winter_ has come for us, but I'm safe here, under the protection of the _Lady of Winterfell_...” his voice sounded a little husky and you could tell he had been drinking, with his hand he looked for her hip and just slid it over her, posing at her waist. She sighed, at the first contact her body was turned on again. He looked at her even more intensely and then put his eyes on her lips "... _Sansa Stark_."

She felt like she got completely wet just listening to his voice speak her name. They couldn't contain themselves anymore and immediately after he finished speaking, their lips met desperatly. She felt the rudeness of his beard and the softness of his lips. They kissed slowly, while she felt the pressure of his warm hand on her waist she brought her hands to both sides of his face, feeling his beard and jaw and holding him firm, at her mercy.  
She felt his smell of man, of wine, of melancholy and golden curls, of the southern summer in the north. Deliciously slow, their kiss was one of longing and said how much they had missed each other over these separate hours. And all those years apart.

He closed his hand around her forearm and slipped the fabric of her dress just to feel the contact of her skin. Sansa then buried her hand in his hair, stroking it gently, wanting to see if it was real that he was here with her. Tyrion Lannister was here on her lips, making sounds of pleasure at each new contact. They began to get more and more lost in their kiss, his hand went from her waist to her cheek, before going through all the lenght of her dress and then hiding behind her neck, bringing her closer to him. She let out a sound of great pleasure and he smiled on her lips and then kissed her in the most passionate way he could. She felt that she could take off his clothes right there and undress him, she didn't know where she wanted to go but knew she didn't want this closeness to ever end.

Suddenly a mountain of snow made one of the branches of the tree yield with its weight and fell hard a few feet away from them, making a dry sound. The two startled and broke the kiss. Sansa looked everywhere expecting to find half the castle looking at them in surprise, but saw no one. She heard Tyrion laugh.

“I abused my luck and now winter wants to put me in my place, interrupting a wonderful moment. Gift for you, a shot of snow, southern. ”

She looked at him again and smiled, still moved. He winked at her and said as he returned to the bottle of wine "Concerned that they catch you with this demon monkey?" His voice sounded light but there was a hint of insecurity on his face and the way his smile was drawn.

"Let's see, give me that." She said as she pulled the bottle he was holding to her lips. She took it and drank two long drinks.

"Lady Sansa!" He said in half amused shock. "Drinking at this time of the afternoon? I don't want to think that I've corrupted you.” He said smiling mischievously as he received the bottle from her hands and took a long sip himself.

"Duty can wait, and I almost completed my daily tasks, I only have left to write some letters but I prefer to do that at night." She said looking around, appreciating the beauty of this beautiful corner where they were. "I enjoy when the castle is silent, I find that I can concentrate better."

He smiled slightly “I know what you mean, I always liked to stay late reading. And it's also a good time to write, the best poems come out. ”

"You write?" Sansa asked surprised.

Tyrion settled a little on the bench, putting his leg in a more comfortable position, turning a little towards her and bringing the wine back to his mouth. Before drinking he said “Sometimes, if inspiration comes. If I find my muse." He drank a little "... it helps to be in love." he said with a hopeful smirk on his face.

“Are you going to write one for me then?” She said with newly found courage. Her hand took the bottle brushing lightly on his fingers and then brought the bottle to her mouth and swallow at once, taking her time, all the liquid that remained.  
Tyrion froze, as if he was incredibly seduced by what she had just done and as if he was totally and completely with his heart on her palms.

"Most definitely." He said out of breath.

They didn't kissed again but they stared very intensely, worshiping each other with their eyes. The connection between them was so powerful that Sansa couldn't believe they didn't always have this kind of relationship.  
She held his gaze until it was too much to bear and then said, looking at the treetops:  
"I'm sorry."

"What for?" He said. The wind stirred her hair. 

"It would be better if nobody found out about us, for now." She seemed nervous, she didn't want Tyrion to think she was rejecting him.

"I understand." He said immediately. “It's complicated...”

"Only while we decide well what to do and what will be our next step..."

"Don't worry, Sansa, seriously" he said raising a hand and giving her a sweet look. "I understand perfectly." He took her hand and squeezed it lightly. Then he ran his tumb trough the back of her hand, stroking the soft skin. "We have more problems than solutions ahead, I regret that having come here has stained you with all this, but we will be making the decisions to fix everything."

“We will solve all of it. Together.” She said.

Both smiled. The sun had begun to fall and the sky was dyed with a reddish and purple glow, the light hiding a little. It seemed a dream to be here both, during the harshest Winter, happy. Sansa looked at the empty bottle in Tyrion's hand and said

"It seems we will need more wine to continue the night."

"Indeed, you _are_ the perfect woman." He said bringing his hand to the back of her neck to bring her to him and kiss her. The darkness of the night progressed and trusting that the lack of light would protect them, they kissed passionately several minutes. They ended up hugging and wrapped with each other. Breathing their fragrances and feeling the heat of their bodies together. It was starting to get really cold. She pulled her head from his neck, before kissing him on the cheek several times along the way. She stood up and said:

"Come on, let's go." She had her hand extended to him.

Tyrion smiled completely in love, taking it.  
"You lead the way, my lady."

 

 

 

 

\--


	9. Tyrion

 

The sun was going down on the horizon and Tyrion's heart was pounding, he felt the rumble in his ears and the sweaty palms of his hands. The first snowflakes were beginning to fall and he could guess by the dark clouds swirling above his head that another storm was approaching. This Winter would be intense and ever changing, he thought. So why did his chest feel so full? Why did he feel a warmth in his heart that made him think he was floating? Why was he so happy?

Maybe because he was drunk and the day had been a precious gift full of sunshine. Oh and there was also the small detail that he was walking next to Sansa Stark, and he had kissed her and hid his face in her neck, inhaling the essence of her hair. He had made her laugh. Surely that was. No longer confronted if not together, and more than he expected when he first came here.  
They looked at each other one last time before going through the archway that separated the private courtyard from the main part. In the distance hurried footsteps could be heard, people guarding firewood and putting animals in shelter, others beginning to light the torches. Her gleaming blue eyes in the gloom looked at him as she smiled with tenderness and passion and said, whispering

“Let me find that wine and we can meet in a few hours in my room. What do you say?"

He took her hand and ran his thumb down her knuckles and then kissed each one of them, causing her to lose her breath. He separated his mouth just a little from her hand to look at her from below and say:

“My lady, nothing would give me more pleasure. But I must say... I don't know the way to your bedroom yet. ”

"Oh... you're right, how foolish of me." She considered it for a moment, then a small playful smile was drawn on her face. “I'll think about something, don't worry. I think it would be best to wait until after dinner time, so we'll avoid any unwanted looks. ”

Tyrion placed his other hand on top of hers, just as he had done on their wedding day, when he'd promised he would never hurt her.

"Until then, Sansa." He said, looking at her and speaking her name as if it were a sacred word.

She smiled again and then bent down a little to pass through the archway, leaving him behind. He listened to her footsteps on the snow until they were lost. He breathed in the cold air, that was beginning to fill with moisture, for a few seconds. A fine drizzle was beginning to fall while the sky was already turning a shade of dark crimson and the last bits of the day were hiding in the distance, between the mountains.  
Winterfell could be very beautiful, he had never noticed before.

He walked the road back to the castle with slow steps, savoring absolutely everything that was going on since his arrival. He wished more than anything else to have other clothes to change with, since he still had his Hand of the Queen's attire on. Although the maid had brought him another change of undergarment and had done her best to air and perfume his outfit last night, he wanted to change his image. Especially thinking of visiting Sansa later that night. He thought about what that meant, going to her quarters. He felt more than ever that he was living a dream and that he would not believe that this could be real until he was under the furs of her bed, touching her skin.

Suddenly a white light illuminated everything and seconds later a thunder was heard in the heights, among the dark clouds. Tyrion's steps broke small frozen twigs in his path. He raised his head and, in the distance, distinguished the image of Bran sitting in his chair. He was staring at him and Tyrion couldn't hold his gaze. Although he was no longer the same boy as before, he was still Sansa's brother, and something in Tyrion, a kind of guilt, passed momentarily on him.  
The Three-eyed Raven ... maybe was one of those crows that he saw passing witnessing his encounter with Sansa? Those eyes occupied by the little lord? Did they see when he kissed her hand and promised to visit her at night?  
 _'Seven hells'_ he thought, _'is the last of my worries.'_

He crossed the entrance door to the great hall and immediately felt the characteristic warmth of the castle as he crossed the threshold. He went down some corridors he knew until he reached the kitchens. He remembered some key spots from his brief time in Winterfell all those years ago, the kitchen was one of them and in all the places he'd visited he tried to learn the location right after arriving. In the kitchens was the pantry and this one protected one of his greatest pleasures, alcohol. Another one was the library, his favorite place wherever he'd go, he would visit it later without a doubt. He had also seen the owlery and toured and admired the entire park, with its incredible Ice Gardens.

Today he would discover a new place, Sansa's room. The hairs on his body bristled just thinking about her. He could not believe that his mind was so consumed by her presence, he could not think of anything else. So many years being so close to power, playing the game of thrones in the highest spheres and enjoying it, above all, above even the love of a woman. And now his disenchantment had been such that he wanted to leave everything behind and just live in the present moment. He thanked the gods that Sansa occupied everything in his head, was a light that hid for now the darkness he had witnessed, of which he had been a key piece.  
Either way he knew that this torment would not leave him for many years.

Finally in the kitchen he managed to locate the maid who had gone to wake him that day in the morning and asked her to please prepare a bath as soon as possible and gave her details of a couple of elements he needed to make himself presentable. Then he returned to the main hall, slowly walked the length of the room and stopped in front of the big heart, behind the main table and under two banners hanging from the wall wearing direwolf heads. His silhouette was cut against the glow of the fire. Looking at the flames, he remembered Drogon's colossal breath, spilling over King's Landing, destroying everything. He frowned, grimacing in pain. Memory more often than it seems, can be a curse.

He felt someone move behind him and then he heard some careful steps. Without turning he listened to the mysterious man.

"Well, I didn't expect to find you here." Davos spoke as he came to stood by his side.

"I could say the same about you." Tyrion said, very seriously.

A silence formed as the two men watched the wood sizzle.

"At the last moment Jon asked me to stay." Davos said in a somewhat embarrassed tone of voice. "He said that things could get out of control and it was convenient for any future event to remain on guard here and form a plan." Tyrion looked at him "To help Sansa, instead, if necessary."

“Jon Snow expected something like this to happen? And wanted to protect you in case something did not go according to plan? Am I getting it right? ”

"I don't know ... I guess so. Despite that and that we already know what happened, I haven't received any news from him directly since then. The last letter was sent directly to Lady Sansa. ”

Tyrion looked at him sideways, with a half smile on his face. "I don't judge you, Onion Knight, I'm glad you were away from what happened."

Davos smiled. "I hope he is alright." He said with a thoughtful and melancholic look. "And that he'll have the courage to make the right decisions."

"I hope so too." Tyrion said. The room was deserted, the night was falling. “Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm still too tired from my journey here and a hot bath is waiting for me. Keep up the good work, Davos.” He gestured to leave.

"Sure, Lord Tyrion, but if you allow me, before you leave... I've been very curious since the moment I found out that you arrived." He looked at him questioningly. “I really thought you would go as far as you could, but you decided to come here, which would be the first place she would look.”

Tyrion looked at him, raising his eyebrows "Is there a question somewhere in there?"

“Why Winterfell? Is there anything that you discussed with Jon by any chance, any conversation after the city's course changed? It intrigues me."

"No." He shook his head. “Don't look for a conspiracy, save yourself the trouble, it's much simpler. Men are simpler than that.” He said and now it was he who went through melancholy and reflection, remembering. “I just saw something I didn't want to see, I saw the city that wanted to improve upon be burned in flames, turned into hell itself. And I ran. I could not control what was happening or change it, I wanted to escape from that reality that turned into a nightmare. I got on the first horse I found and ended up here.”

Davos looked at him with empathy for a moment, then said "I can't imagine, I don't even want to actually."  
"But... that doesn't really explain why you came here, among all places." He examined him from the corner of his eye.

Tyrion looked at him, tired of giving explanations. “I just ended up here, the horse did half the work to tell you the truth. Maybe we should ask him, I named him Florian.”

Davos smiled "The force that brought you here must have been very powerful." Then he said quietly "I'm rooting for you, you know. I think you make a good couple.”

Tyrion reacted instantly, caught off guard, and said in dismay: “What are you talking about? Have you gone mad?” Matching his voice in volume. He held his gaze. “Besides, she is not interested in me. And neither I in her for that matter, ours was always a road of obligation. ”

Davos did not smile but his eyes did, as seeing right trough him. "I don't believe you for a second, I think..." he said looking at his shoes, to cut with the intensity of the moment, it wasn't an accusation after all "I think you would leave everything for her, I saw you at the banquet, before you left.”

"You _saw_ me? Really? And what is it that you saw? What would be your verdict, Insightful Man?” He said defiantly.

"You love her." Davos said simply.

The crackling of the flames and in the distance sounds of dishes coming from the kitchens was the only thing that could be heard.

Tyrion scoffed, getting himself back together "Of course I don't love her." He remembered when he said the same thing about Sansa to another woman in his life, at a time far away. He looked the other way. “She is a beautiful girl, I don't deny it, perhaps the most beautiful in the kingdom, but she is very far from my possibilities. She deserves someone better than me. ”

"Surely she would tell you that of the men of her life you have been the best one."

_You were the best of them._

He shook his head and began to walk away “I'm glad to see you again Ser Davos, really, but I hope you keep your assumptions to yourself if you would be so kind. Believe me, I wish fairy tales were real, nothing would give me more pleasure.” He said leaving behind the right hand of Jon Snow.

-

He walked the halls until he reached his quarters. The smoking bath was waiting for him, located in front of the fire, the room temperature was pleasant and cozy. He undressed immediately, leaving the clothes thrown across the room as he advanced. Before arriving at the bathtub something caught his attention, on the bed an outfit was displayed for him, clean and ironed.  
His mouth opened in surprise.  
It was his classic Lannister clothes, a cut and a design that he wore at the time the War of the Five Kings broke out. Not giving credit to his eyes, he thought that he had surely left it behind when he visited Winterfell that time, when he brought with him the plans for Bran Stark's saddle. In his opulence and position he did not realize that he was missing something in his luggage. And then many things happened, like his kidnapping and imprisonment for naming a few.  
He didn't think he could be happier but he was, he was going to be impeccable to see Sansa.

They had brought him a dresser with a mirror and a care table. Sharp razors and clean cloths moistened with essences awaited him. He moved the furniture so that it was right next to the water and got into the bathtub.

He washed and cleaned with dedication, enjoying the moment. While the steam enveloped him he positioned in front of the mirror and looked at himself. He liked his beard, but he needed a change, it felt heavy and he wanted to renew himself somehow. He shaved carefully and then applied the oils and wiped his face. He looked at the mirror and ran his fingers across his naked skin. It felt good. But it was weird looking like this again after all this time, he only hoped Sansa would like it. He finished bathing and came out of the water. With wet feet he approached to his robe and wrapped himself in it. He thanked the Gods for Winterfell's always warm floors.

Someone knocked on the door. "Wait a minute!" Tyrion exclaimed and secured the towel as he headed for the door. It was the usual servant girl, she had a roll of paper secured with a sigil in her hand.

"Excuse me, m'lord, I don't want to bother you but Lady Sansa gave me this for you." She handed him the note.

“There is no trouble at all, and thank you for bringing me the things I asked for. Have a good night.” Tyrion thanked her and she blushed slightly, bowed and walked down the hall.

Tyrion closed the door behind him and opened the the scroll. He smiled a broad smile.

Unfolded on the paper it could be seen the drawing of a map, with precise instructions on how to find the way to Sansa's room. The mark of Catelyn Tully's daughter was guessed on the line, as if it were an extension of her beauty. It was very well drawn, marking all the rooms on the floor and even had small details, such as the drawing of books to indicate the library or the simplified portrait of his own bearded face pointing to his room.  
He laid his body on the closed door. The sweetness and humor of that map overwhelmed him, he thought it was something he would like to always have on him after this day, like an amulet.  
He breathed his perfume clean and freshly shaved. He had not felt so alive for a long time.  
 _'Sansa ...'_ thought _'Who would have thought I would be so lucky ...'_

He took off his robe, he wanted to be ready as soon as possible.

 

 

 

–


	10. Sansa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is the longest chapter by far, got a little carried away but couldn't just cut it in two. You'll see why.  
> This will be the last chapter for a while, until I finalize a few projects this month.  
> Find yourself somewhere quiet and enjoy the reading.  
> ❤

 

 

The rain began to intensify and the soft rattling of the drops could be felt in the window pane of Sansa's room. The place was spacious, in a corner, under a window was a small circular table where she sometimes enjoyed a cup of tea and watched the moon. They were her moments of relaxation after a day spent thinking about all the rebuilding issues, in the other Houses, on the map of events that unfold day after day. She lived fighting on all fronts, as Littlefinger used to say. At least he left for her some traces of wisdom, that low cunning bastard. She sat at the table and watched the drops fall, reflecting the fire of the heart, across the room. She had bathed and dressed, scented. Her hair loose.

A moment ago her people had come bringing a steaming ham leg with apple and honey sauce, a few vegetable pies, fresh bread, some cheeses and grapes. And wine, two bottles. She thought better to prevent than to cure. Seeing that beautiful table in front of the fire, she thought it looked like a celebration. Was it time to celebrate something?

She shook her head, of course it wasn't. The Kingdom was in a moment of absolute shock, completely stunned. Everything was uncertain. Two of her own were in the South at the mercy of the will of the self-proclaimed new Queen. In his letter Jon had mentioned that Arya was there but she knew nothing more than that, she would like to receive some signal directly from her for to know what her next step would be. She wanted more than anything in the world to regroup her people so she could make a decision about what would happen next.

And to be honest she also expected another letter from Jon, some new hint about what was happening in the capital. Despite certain reports that reached her ears it was difficult to have any idea what was really happening in King's Landing with the city taken by the Dothraki and the Unsullied. She wished with all her heart that Jon was not blinded to Daenerys, she wished he could see through his love and attraction to her. No matter how many wonderful things she had done throughout her life, if today you are a city burner, like your father, then you have to draw a line somewhere.

That is why she clung to the idea of receiving some more news from her brother and sister, only then could she make an appropriate decision regarding Daenerys's citation. Or so she said to herself. The truth is that she was stretching decision making as much as possible. Everything about Tyrion's presence in Winterfell seemed like a dream and, selfishly, she wanted it to last as long as possible. He picked her up and pulled her out of reality by coming back to her. To make a decision would be to put an end to this "night", to this dream, she knew it.

She had several plans and possible scenarios already drawn in her mind and she had to make a decision as soon as possible. And unfortunately almost every road ended up with them separated. Too many things could go wrong and she wouldn't let Daenerys put her hands on Tyrion, she would do everything she could to save him, she felt it on her skin, even if it cost her his own heart. Her own happiness.

Tomorrow would be the time, she told herself, one way or another she would reach a conclusion, she would talk to her advisors and Tyrion and they would act on it.

Outside there was a rumble of thunder among the clouds. Sansa looked back at the table with the two chairs, ready for a dinner in confidence. Candles and fire gave a golden tint to almost every object in the room. On the other side of the door it was leaning against a wall a large mirror with an intricate wooden edge that could take her full length. Besides, a dresser of the same set and then the windows, one, two, three, until getting to hers, lying on top of the tea table. To her left was her bed, with high shutters and large and heavy covers. The sheets made, the pillows, few, accommodated. She swallowed. It was going to be an intense presence during the night, watching them.

She set her eyes on the food again, she was hungry. She thought that they were fortunate to be able to enjoy such a feast for themselves, especially given the circumstances of this hard Winter. She was really lucky, she stopped to think, in spite of all the bad things that had happened to her, and they were many, in spite of everything today she was somewhere else. She had resumed her ancestral home, she was again among her people, she had the respect of the community. She felt increasingly confident in herself, more confident in her own intelligence and directive. They had defeated the Others; she remembered when a while ago everything was fear and apprehension, terror and the most absolute darkness loomed over them. It seemed that they were not going to live to tell it, that future was truly uncertain. That horror that seemed insurmountable, was overcome. And the Night King succumbed and she survived all that. _They_ survived.

And they had life and light, and they had time in this world, on this earth. Today, now, they were alive, together, Tyrion about to knock on her door. Outside it rained, inside, the hot springs bled trough the walls of the castle and warm poured all over her heart. She sighed. She was fortunate to live this moment, to be able to enjoy it, even if tomorrow there was another fight to fight, she was here today.

Tyrion Lannister was in the same place as her. It was a situation she did not think possible, if someone had told her this a fortnight ago she would have thought they were talking crazy. The man she had once seen arriving for the first time, on that Joffrey's nameday, speaking in his deep voice and offering condolences for her father's death. The only ones she received in all that time. They were worth a lot. And they were sincere, she saw it in his eyes instantly, even then she could see the truth that his words expressed through them. Through his way of moving, of smiling, of looking.

She felt that he was someone different right away, different from the vipers that surrounded her, to the rats that expected her to fall to gnaw at her bones. But she didn't want to trust, she told herself that he was part of the enemy family and that his loyalty laid with them. She couldn't trust him.

Until one day he rescued her from Joffrey and his punches, she, defenceless and he coming to her rescue. Facing the king, jeopardizing his integrity, Joffrey who at that time was discovering his true power and cruelty. But Tyrion didn't care, put him in his place and offered her his hand to help her up, escorted her outside and protected her, or wanted to. He always worried about her, always gave her warmth, security, even before they were married.

It was strange to think that one day she was married to him, that she slept in his bed and had the possibility that he also did, beside her. Although he never did out of respect for her. Remembering that she shared meals with him and heard his stories, his book recommendations, that she was never afraid. But she protected herself in any way, she didn't let his warmth break her careful put together armor and her high guard because it was too dangerous. In this city they were all her enemies, they would all see her fall with pleasure if that meant saving themselves, she couldn't let a kind smile make her forget about it. Even if that smile came from those lips and green eyes that seemed to be honest and honorable, even if that look caused something in her chest that she could not name. And that voice, gods, that voice.

Sansa was lost in her thoughts. Her hair fell down her back and she was wearing a dress for the occasion, not very revealing but beneficial for her figure and somewhat riskier than the clothes she used daily to move around the castle. It was one of her favorite dresses but she never wore it, another thing to thank the man who was about to arrive. Suddenly she became nervous, very aware of what was to happen, the man who occupied all her thoughts was about to come find looking for her. She stood up and smoothed her dress, walked a little around the room looking for something to correct from the scene. She approached the fire and threw a log of firewood at it, then shook her hands and prepared to settle her hair in front of the mirror. She remembered when she was in front of another mirror, years ago and Tyrion appeared reflected in it, to take her to their wedding ceremony.

Then he took her hand and promised _“I won't ever hurt you.”_ And a fulfilled promise is worth a lot in a world like this. He protected her when they were strangers, made sure to let her know that she would be fine, that she would not be a prisoner anymore, not with him.

Her heart was pounding. She really couldn't believe that Tyrion was here and she had invited him to her room. _To her room._ They had kissed, she didn't know for how long, on a park bench in view of anyone who could find them. Several scenarios had passed through her head and in all she ended up undressing Tyrion right there. How ladylike of her. She wondered if she was losing her mind. What would her septa think? Or her mother? All her training as a lady and today, after a few drinks of wine she had invited a man to her quarters, and not anyone. To the son of an enemy family, the same family that did so much wrong to her own, hated in the North.

And yet he was the best man she had ever met. The one who had attracted her most in every way, from whom she always wanted more. She thought she remembered some story of lovers of rival families, who did everything to be able to live their passion. Maybe those were them.

She smiled, and thought how far she was from all these feelings, she thought for a long time that her path was one of loneliness, that she would never want the company of another man. That love was something reserved for stories and songs, an invention to make people hope that there was a better world than the one we actually lived in. She certainly did not think it was possible that one day she would recover the desire for someone to touch her, for someone to kiss and hug her, to discover another person in that way.

And now she couldn't wait to have Tyrion close again.

 _"The disgraced daughter and the demon monkey, we're perfect for each other."_ She could hear his voice in her mind, loud and clear as if she were on that sunny day, touring the terraces next to him. What a treat he was even then, the golden lion.  
A soft nock on the door startled her.

This was it. She adjusted her hair and looked at herself one last time in the mirror. She wanted to be pretty for him. She went to the door and opened it.

Tyrion was there, waiting for her. Sansa was frozen in place, her mouth open suspended, the surprise on her face. Tyrion was incredibly handsome, his clean scent flooding her, his radiant hair, combed in a wild but intentional way. But she felt that she was opening a door to the past, Tyrion looked exactly like that last afternoon spent walking on the terraces, laughing. He had shaved for her and sported his naked face. His scar was much less noticeable than in the past, already healed over time, and his eyes were wiser, his countenance more worried than the Tyrion of the past. But it was him.

Tyrion was also speechless, his eyes drinking in her beauty, stopping in her loose hair, her lips and her eyes. She supposed that answered Sansa's question about whether she was beautiful enough for him.

He cleared his throat "My lady." His voice soft, as always when he addressed her.

"Hi," she could only say. They stared at each other for a moment without knowing what to do.

"Shall I ...?" He said, motioning to the room.

“Yes, yes, of course. Please.” Sansa moved aside, getting out of her stupor, so he could enter. Tyrion stepped inside, examining the room, his eyes stopping on the bed for a fraction of a second. He approached the table, enjoying what he saw.

“Ahh, a feast. How wonderful, I must admit that I did not expect so much luxury, coming to see you was enough for me” he said as his fingers touched the edge of the table and turned to look at her.

She blushed just feeling the connection of his eyes over hers. And smiled.

"After the amount we drank we do need to eat." It sounded silly to hear it, damn it, she wanted to impress him with every phrase. She approached the chair on the other side of Tyrion's, and said "And speaking of that, wine?"

"Always." He said as he smiled at her. Gods, being close to him, could better appreciate his face, lit by fire. He was more handsome than she had ever seen him, she was sure of that. Tyrion sat down and proceeded to look at her while serving the wine. Already seated, they looked at each other with their goblets in hand waiting to toast. They blushed and smiled at the same time, looking away. It was Sansa who dared first.

"You shaved."

Tyrion smiled even more and ran a hand over his face, feeling his skin "Ah ... that. Yes.” He brought the goblet to his lips to smell the wine and said as he looked at it “I needed a change. I hope it's to your liking."

"It very much is." Sansa spoke as her eyes scanned his face. She wondered what her gaze would tell Tyrion about how she felt to see him at that moment. She felt that every sensation of her body was being written with bright letters on her forehead. "Shall we toast?" She thought she sounded somewhat insecure, but she supposed it was fine, she didn't always invited a man to a romantic evening in her bedroom. And certainly not one who had wanted so much for so many years without ever realizing.

"Yes." he said, lively. His smile was sweet and why not, Sansa thought, hiding some nerves too. “Let's drink for us. For life, for poetry, for the human heart, for sunsets and sunrises, for this delicious buffet, for Winterfell's incredible warm springs!” His goblet raised above his head. Sansa laughed. His demeneaor one of festiveness, of cheerful hope. “Here's for you, and here's for me. For being alive tonight in this beatiful castle, for wine, for the fool's hope. For being together.” His tone a little more serious. “Here´s for you.” He raised his goblet in her direction.

She smirked “Here's for us.” Their drinks clashed softly and their eyes sparkled.

Outside the storm began to get worse when two lovers brought the wine to their throats, the scene dyed orange. Both sitting on the same side of the table but somewhat inclined to use their dishes. They began serving immediately, both ecstatic by the quality and quantity of food. And for the mutual company. Sansa put a vegetable pie on her plate and prepared to cut the cheeses into pieces, to peck while they were drinking. While Tyrion was already cutting the ham into slices, he then cut two pieces of rye bread, placed the ham on top of it and handed one to Sansa.

"Thank you. This looks so good.” She said as she prepared to try it.

"I know." Tyrion said, and took a long drink of wine and licked his lips "I almost feel I don't deserve it." A playful smirk was drawn on his face.

"I'm not sure I deserve it either" Sansa said with her mouth full of vegetable pie, her voice muffled, crumbs jumping away from her mouth and reaching him.

Tyrion, who was taking a bite of the bread with the ham, couldn't help it and in light of this adorable scene he burst out laughing, spilling some crumbs as well all over Sansa. The two laughed out loud, covering their mouths, their laughter filling the room for several seconds. They recovered their breath and drank to pull themselves together. They looked at each other with eyes brighter than ever, they were both happy.

They ate and drank while talking about various subjects, the ice had broken and they much more comfortable in the situation, enjoying. Sansa told him about her comings and goings organizing and supervising the repair of the castle, the state of provisions and the intensity of the care they needed to spend the Winter. They talked about her counselors, about her adaptation during this time as head of Winterfell, about the doubts that assaulted her when she thought about her father handling everything and how to live up to him. Of what was expected of her. Tyrion told her some anecdote about that time when he saw himself handling the city and the juggling he had to do with the king's council. The wine was going down and with very much intent Sansa avoided the issue of Daenerys's letter and therefore, to make a decision about it. She sensed that Tyrion knew it and he didn't push for it, they both knew they were on borrowed time.

Sansa once again served wine from the bottle that was now three-quarters empty. She looked at him and he looked back at her while he drank, that gesture reminded her of the first time she saw him and a heat ran through her body. She felt bold.

  
“You know, it's funny because just before you arrived I was remembering the day I met you. And all those moments we shared in King's Landing. And then, I opened the door and there you were, all handsome just as I knew you at that time” fiddled with her fingers on her goblet. “Do you remember one of our tours of the Red Keep terraces? That sunny day? ”

He smiled satisfied, the praise didn't go unnoticed

"Of course I remember, Ser Eldrick Sarsfield and Lord Desmond Crakehall." He said with a little smirk and a more formal voice "And... sheep shift."

"Ha ha... Still holding a grudge?"

“I remember everything not because of them but because of you, make no mistake.” He looked at her very seriously.

She drank some wine "Do you remember what you told me then?"

"I said we were perfect for each other." He spoke without skipping a beat.

The two gasped, expectant. The fire crackled and a loud sound of thunder pierced them.

"And what do you think about that today?" She asked shyly.

He tilted his head as if she had shot an arrow in his heart, closed his eyes for a moment and smiled slightly. "Sansa" the sound of her name on his lips kept driving her crazy still "please have mercy on me." He smiled so completely.

"Am I torturing you in some way, my lord?" She played, tilting her head to the same side as Tyrion.

A flash crossed his eyes that stared intently at hers He narrowed his eyes and spoke as he leaned toward her. "You know my name." The way his lips formed when he said that phrase, as if challenging her, drove Sansa crazy.

 _"Tyrion..."_ Sansa began to melt. He seemed to undress her with his eyes, his blond hair flashing, the flames of fire dancing in his green eyes.

“What do you want me to say?” He asked in his deep voice, looking at her without breaking the connection “I could say so much and everything would be true. I could tell you what harbors my heart.”

She approached him a little "Then tell me." _Because I am yours and I need to hear it, I need to hear that you are also mine._

Tyrion reached out to stroke Sansa's cheek and she tilted her head slightly deepening the contact as her lips parted a little. Their heads much closer to one another. The sound of the rain, louder than ever, enveloped the room.

"Alright" he sighed "Forgive me for this crude attempt for I'm a little nervous."

“Oh really, and why is that? I thought words is were you excelled.” Her tongue delaying in pronouncing the last word. Aware of the effect she had on him.

“The most beautiful woman in the kingdoms is in front of me, to begin with.” he blinked.

She smiled and blushed intensely.

He kept searching her eyes, his hand leaving her cheek and tracing the soft skin of her neck to take refuge in her hair. His green eyes shining, looking deep inside of her.

“My heart beats for you, Sansa. In you I see lights that I will not see, doubts that I will not know, simple things.” His eyes went to her half parted lips. “I love looking at you and in every moment feel something new, I love how you transform cages in branches for this bird.” He was traveling her with his eyes, devouring her hair, her body. “I love your neck, voice, your mind and your tangled hair. I love that you are by my side, I'll kiss the ground you have stepped on. _I love your name._ ” He paused for a second, taking hold of his breath.  
“I can never forget you. I am oblivious to reality, completely beyond saving, every waking moment is one of longing.”

Sansa's hand went for his face, to slide her fingers and feel the softness of his skin at last. It was softer than she had imagined.

“For being with you” Tyrion inhaled softly at the feeling of the touch of her fingers on his cheek but didn't break eye contact “For being the one to comfort you, being the one that gets to hear you laugh, the one you bring your sorrows and your joys to.” He swallowed and delicately but firmly grabbed a handfull of her red hair behind her neck bringing her a little closer to him.  
“I want you. The need I have for you is a fire burning inside me that is about to consume me hole.” His voice got smaller and broke a little “I'm so fucking scared.” He looked down and she rested her hand on his jaw, lifting his face so that she could catch his eyes once more. “If it were up to me, I would love you until the end of my days.”

Sansa blinked, taken off guard and overwhelmed by emotion, she clinged to Tyrion's every word spoken. Her eyes filled with tears before his last words.

“I never tought I could feel again.” She said, honestly “And now, you are all I can think about, my heart is bursting, so full of you, and I don't know how to name this things that I'm feeling. This, that you brought out of me.” Her hands were now in Tyrion's hair, their noses a span away.

"Sansa ..." Tyrion whispered.

Sansa's mouth approached his and very gently their lips met. He opened his mouth and slide his tongue a little over her lip. Both breathless, connected by their impossible urge, getting closer together instinctively. The kiss was slow, and when their lips touched they kept the contact for long seconds, enjoying the feeling agonizingly. Tyrion's hand trailed her forearm ever so gently, caressing her exposed skin while Sansa kept him in place, her hands on both sides of his face, sunk in his blond hair. Their legs touched and they could feel the heat they generated together.

The storm lifted even more force, wind and thick drops clashed againt the castle windows. The sound outside was of a hurricane, leaves flying and thunder striking one after the other. The thick walls protected them and allowed the passage of sound from outside somewhat camouflaged. Inside, the fire crackled, filled with enough wood, as a northerner knew, to last until the next day.

Sansa felt Tyrion's hand travel across her arm until it stopped on her shoulder, as she moved closer to her. Their bodies now touched each other as much as they could from the position they were in. Tyrion was at the edge of his seat, his boots touching the floor. The sound of their kiss filled the room. Sansa was totally on fire, wanted to wrap him around, this closeness didn't seem enough. She moved her hand to his face and groaned at the feel of his cheekbone and down his freshly shaved cheek. Tyrion brought her even closer to him. Sansa began to untangle his doublet's laces with clumsy and hurried movements.

She felt how Tyrion's fingers traversed the skin that showed her dress, drawing the contour of her neckline and then going down, making slight pressure all the time, tracing the contour of her breast and firmly taking her waist. His way of kissing her had accelerated after he felt Sansa's initiative. Sansa broke the kiss so she could see the knots and be faster in her work. Her forehead resting on Tyrion's, both looking at her hands.

He laughed slightly, catching his breath.

"What?" She whispered looking at his swollen lips, and she couldn't help giving him a quick kiss out of the depths of her heart. Then she resumed her mission to take Tyrion's clothes off while he smiled and said in a raspy voice

"It's just ... I'm happy."

They shared a look full of tenderness. His hands covered hers and quickly untangled the laces, opening the fabric and revealing the shirt underneath and the hair of his chest half exposed. Sansa put her palms on his shoulders and dropped them, feeling the firmness of his chest and taking off his garment. Tyrion stood up and opened his arms and let his doublet fell to the floor while her hands were already looking for the seam of his shirt. Sansa quickly grabbed the cloth and lifted it over Tyrion's head, throwing to the other side of the room and suddenly he was bare chested.

His breathing going up and down, Sansa could see the hair covering his chest and how it had the perfect shape, disappearing down his abdominals and then coming back down below his belly button until it ended in his breeches. He was toned and lean and was even a little muscular, in the lower part of his abdomen the entrances of the bones of his hip stood out, like they were sculpted, pointed to his most intimate part. Sansa felt a warmth in her upper stomach. She could see in his pants a bulge and she knew it was his erection contained in them. She swallowed and stretched out her hand to slide her deliciously slow fingers from the top of his chest down his belly. She felt his skin was made of fire and Tyrion breathed a groan of pleasure as if Sansa's fingers were made of ice.

"Sa-Sansa ..." Tyrion exhaled, his eyes dark, cloudy. "I need to hear you say it."

She felt her heart in her mouth. She licked her lips. "Tyrion ..."

"Do you want me?" His voice echoed.

Sansa bet whatever it was that now her gaze was as dark as Tyrion's, just as unfocused, wishing only one thing.

"I do." Her voice trembling. “I want you to share my bed, Tyrion. I fear I would die if you don't.” Her fingers travel down closer to the waist of his breeches, never ceasing to touch him, and once she got there sunk her fingertips under the cloth, grabbing it and thus bringing him a little bit closer to her. His skin below there where at the temperature of the sun, and Sansa could feel his hair as well. Tyrion closed the distance between them and gave her an open mouthed kiss, venemous and intoxicating. He devoured her and she was eager to please him.

Sansa broke the contact and look him in the eye. "Let's go to bed, shall we?."

"Yes, yes, we will be more comfortable there certainly." He seemed to be nervous again.

He climbed the two steps that raised the floor, until he reached the edge of the bed, began to take off his boots on the carpet while Sansa approached slowly, untying the laces of her dress that went down her back, one by one. While Tyrion took off his boots, he looked at Sansa in bewilderment as she began to undress, holding his gaze. He finished with his shoes and climbed onto the bed, turning to look at her, sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs open and naked from the waist up.  
With each knot she untied the dress fell lower on her white skin, exposing her breasts more and more. Sansa thought that Tyrion seemed not to breathe, his gaze on her wanting to absorb everything. She enjoyed that moment of control and unleashed the last knot. Her nipples were exposed. Then the dress fell as if it were silk, outlining the figure of Sansa on it's way down. She was completely naked.

Tyrion looked her up and down without shame, slowly and fast all at the same time, covering every inch. Like a painter who wants to memorize all the details of something beautiful. A lightning bolt illuminated the entire room for a second.  
“You know, I've never believed in the Gods, but this sight of you brings me closer than I ever will.” Said with a trembling and raspy voice.

Sansa smiled. “That pleases me so. I want to show you what you do to me, clever man.” She approached him and entered between his legs, she standing, he with her legs open, taking her by the waist, getting as close as possible to each other. Tyrion looked wide-eyed at her bare chest in front of him, then closed them and prepared to kiss every inch of her abdomen. His kisses felt hot and wet, they felt like adoration. Sansa hugged him, sinking one hand into his hair and another almost squeezing his back and shoulder. He followed the shape of her ribs to where they joined and then reached with his mouth to one of her breasts, kissing it slowly causing small noises of pleasure in Sansa and at the same time lowering his hands down her lower back and stroking her buttocks. His palms closed softly and cupped her cheeks, letting out a sound from his throat, muffled by his lips on her.

The pleasure she felt at the slightest touch was more than she had felt in her entire life, she was at Tyrion's hands mercy. And his mouth, Gods, his mouth taking one of her nipples, his tongue teasing and circling around her pink button. He opened his eyes and looked at her, as he lowered his hands further stroking her legs from behind, then raising them up her skin, brushing her and reaching her back with the tips of his fingers. Sansa threw her head back, sinking her nails in his back and her hand in his hair. Tyrion kissed her body once again, hungry.

She was also hungry, she lowered her body and her neck towards him, he kept kissing her all the while, crossing her skin with his lips. What she lacked in experience would compensate with passion. Sansa brought the hand that was in his hair to his neck, holding it firmly but sweetly, feeling his throat. And then she kissed him and Tyrion buried his hands in her hair. His lips were soft and tasted like wine. His skin had an essence that could only belong to him. She captured his bottom lip and with the help of her tongue sucked and applied pressure. She broke the kiss, barely touching his lip with her teeth as she did it and looked at him one last time. She saw him totally drunk with her and loved it.

Sansa planted a kiss on his jaw and then went down marking a path with her kisses across his body, while she bent down and knelt between his legs. Tyrion inhaled a sharp breath, surprised with her boldness. She was already kissing the hair beneath his belly button and her hands were pulling his breeches, sliding them down. Tyrion's hands in her hair, stroking it and running it out of sight. He got up a little so that Sansa could lower them below his waist.

She separated a little from him and finished lowering his clothes, exposing Tyrion. And there it was, Tyrion Lannister naked before her. The man who some day in her past rejected and thought never to wish. Today she could not contain what he generated in her, he had her out of her mind. Her sight swallowed complete his nakedness. She didn't know what to do or where she wanted to go, she just knew she wanted everything from Tyrion, she needed it completely and deeply. Seeing his erection so closely caused her a lot of pleasure but it also overwhelmed her a little, she wanted to please him in the right way and everything was very new to her. She took him in her hand, it was very large and seemed pulsing in anticipation, he was so hard and a clear liquid poked from the tip.

Tyrion was breathing now as if he were making a great effort "Sansa ... you don't have to ..." he whispered.

He swallowed as he watched her, capturing the northern beauty scene forever in his mind, with her mouth so close to his manhood. He saw her blue eyes shine, crystalline. He felt that every second he broke into thousands of hours until she closed her hand around his hardness, pressing lightly and then, while looking straight into his eyes, she lowered her tongue and used it to traverse the tip, spreading his lubrication all over and then take him with her lips and inside her mouth. Tyrion groaned loudly, thunder masking his sound for the other inhabitants of the castle. His hands left Sansa's hair to beat back and in his clenched fists squeeze the furs of the bed.

“Sansa! Gods, I ... ”

She continued, taking him in her mouth and with the help of her hand began to rise and fall, tasting him. At first with an exploratory rhythm, then following the sound of his groans, more and more intense and pleading. She felt his hands back in her hair, disheveled and pressing lightly, holding her head. Taken completely by the feeling she was giving him.

Sansa wanted to see how deep she could take him. Tyrion started roaring and his hands stroked her cheeks as he said

“Sansa, look at me.” His voice was husky.

She relented his cock and looked into his green eyes. They where more beautiful than ever, filled with unbridled passion and devotion for her. They appear golden tonight. He caressed her cheeks delicately once more and cupped her neck from behind.  
“Please come join me in bed, my love.” He said with a drunk smile. He moved back as she climbed onto the bed keeping her body on top of his. They kissed once more, Sansa thought that the heat she felt inside her must be physically felt in some way and she imagined the fogged glass of the windows.

Tyrion opened the sheets and threw them down so they could get inside. They both smiled and looked like two young lovers who had never made love. That at least was true for Sansa. She felt her heart full for giving this to him.  
They settled under the furs, hugged and pressed with each other, each inch of their bodies touching, Sansa's breasts pressed against Tyrion's chest. His lips on hers. He stopped kissing her on the mouth to look for her neck with his kisses. Sansa sighed filling with pleasure, while Tyrion hidden between her hair sucked her tender skin, wanting to devour her. The pleasure she felt became almost unbearable as he continued with his kisses enough to reach her earlobe and gently sucking it and teased it with his tongue. One of his hands held Sansa's neck from behind and another was on her buttocks. He crossed her waist and brought his fingers to an aching nipple and teased it with his fingertips. Sansa tighten her embrace around him, overwhelmed by the sensations he caused on her.

In the little space that remained between them, Tyrion's hand went down, circling her abdomen, until he reached the most intimate place of Sansa. She held her breath and tensed for a moment. He pulled his face from her neck to look her in the eye. He sought her approval and could read it in her eyes. Without breaking their gaze, he kept going down with his hand until he found her folds, stroking their length with his fingers. "Gods, Sansa ..." he exclaimed, filled with joy "You are absolutely beautiful."

  
She could feel how wet she was when felt his fingers run through her and the fact that he kept looking at her while doing it made her even crazier. She felt every minimal contact amplified like a wave of pleasure that took her whole body little by little. Tyrion worked his magic and Sansa was falling apart before him, closing her eyes to such pleasure, moaning and biting her lips. Tyrion's face enjoying her groans for Sansa was enough to take her to the top. She felt his mouth on her neck again, kissing her while he kept touching her down there. She felt him go down with his tongue and his kisses all over her body, going through her breasts and trying them too, following to kiss her around her belly button and then lower himself further and hide his head between her legs, kissing her there. Sansa groaned very loudly and almost shouted "Tyrion!"

He closed his mouth around her sex and began kissing her there, with the same expertise with which he had treated her lips. His tongue fiddled and his hands caressed her abdomen and then felt her thighs and held her firmly while he devoured her. Sansa felt something approaching, some kind of explosion inside her, suddenly all she could think about was the sensation of Tyrion's lips on her. She heard himself groan, and heard Tyrion say something like “Yes, Sansa, yes, baby. You can have it all.”

  
Her gaze clouded but she wanted to see him before she vanished, she found him kissing her wildly down there, his eyes intense, drinking her whole. She wouldn't forget the expression in his eyes and when she looked at him her pleasure tripled, and she groaned even louder, no longer controlling the sounds coming out of her mouth. She felt closer and closer, with her hands grabbed Tyrion's hair as she lifted her hips towards him and tried to maintain the connection of his gaze.

  
One of his fingers slided between her folds, sinking into the moisture inside, and began to move it while still kissing her with his lips and tongue. Her moans so loud they competed with the loud sound of thunder. The waves of pleasure came one after another and from one moment to another she could not see anything, her head went completely blank, almost losing consciousness. She squirmed and squeezed his golden hair tightly. She took all the pleasure he gave her, extracting it all along the way. She heard him groan and that was the drop that overflowed the glass. From her mouth Tyrion's name came out in a scream that first sprang high and sharp and then ended weak, the words escaping and disarming. The orgasm shaking her body.  
She felt as if she were away, Tyrion's kisses began to resume, following up her body, and his hands taking her waist as he traced a path of kisses upwards. Suddenly he was kissing her on the cheek very sweetly, and when she felt nothing more, she opened her eyes to look at him. She found him smiling, located above her.

She lifted her head to kiss him and brought him to her with her hands. With one hand he hugged her by the waist and with the other he took her neck, sinking his fingers in her hair. He kissed her with uncontrolled passion, raising the temperature of their bodys and making Sansa's desire come back with more intensity than before. She bit his lip and a groan escaped him. Tyrion used his hands on the mattress to bring himself up and position himself between her legs, at her entrance. Sansa could look down and see it, see everything about him. She wanted him so much and looked into his eyes trying to convey her feeling. He straightened completely and rested one of his palms on her belly, while the other touched her again with circular movements in that part of her body, the most tender. He rested the top of his manhood against her folds that started to open to receive him and began to slowly press forward. But too slow for Sansa's taste.

“Tyrion, my love, please. Please! Please... ” The last beg almost a whisper. She bit her lip and looked at him, between the shadows of the room and the candlelight she could see in his gaze his unmistakable want for her.

  
He loked at her with so much emotion that it filled the room. The sound of the storm and the wind louder than ever and inside the castle the two of them about to become one.

"As you wish, my lady." His seductive voice echoed in the semi darkness.

He entered her firmly and in a swift movement. Sansa almost screamed, her moan sounded surprised. She was so wet that he slipped inside without any pain, breaking through. He groaned and his body curved inward, overwhelmed by the pleasure she caused on him. She moved slightly getting used to the feeling of having him inside her. She felt like all the nerves in her body sprang out of their union and that all her feelings were concentrated in even the slightest friction between them. Sansa opened her eyes, stretching her arm so she could touch Tyrion, losing her breath at the slow movements he began to make.

He had his hands holding Sansa's legs, his skin somewhat more taned, contrasted with hers milky white. Tyrion grabbed her hand and kissed it for a long time, as he looked into her eyes and began to move his hips slowly. He leaned forward and kissed her stomach as his movements took pace, accelerating a little more. Sansa couldn't talk about this pleasure, just feel it. Feeling him inside her was something she couldn't explain, the tastiest thing she'd ever experienced.

Tyrion raised his head and she approached over to kiss him, put her hands on his face, looked into his eyes while he began to enter her with circular movements, driving her crazy. Her face began to contort, she could not control the gestures of pleasure that were drawn on her face. In the same way Tyrion had an expression she had never seen, one of an animal intensity, extremely intimate. Both without breaking their look. Suddenly he moved away from her lips, backed up and arching his back and holding her by the waist, began to penetrate her harder. Each time faster. Finding their pace.

“Aghh, Sansa, sweet Sansa.” It poured from his lips, words tainted with desire.

She started whimpering, and grabbed the headboard behind her with both hands for support. She saw him moving his body, he entered in and out of her again and again of wet folds, his mouth open revealing his absolute desire for her. He began to moan and breathe out of control. Tyrion pproached her again and Sansa brought her hands to his face and his hair. He cupped her cheek and then brought his thumb over her bottom lip and traced it. Sansa teased it with her tongue and he then put it inside her mouth. She lightly sucked it while holding his head in place, pulling a bit from his hair as he charged her harder and harder. He had to rest his arms on the mattress, to either side of her body, to support the onslaught. His strength concentrated in his hips. He slowed down again, getting closer to her and taking her.

The rain continued and hid the increasingly uncontrolled sounds they both made. Both pleading for release.

Tyrion was deep inside her. He came out almost completely, slowly, just to enter her once more, sliding in. And out and in. She was so wet that this movement was excruciating. She couldn't keep herself together, the lust were so much that she felt it along the surface of her face, on her skin, tingling along every nerve in her body. She caught behind Tyrion the mirror that pointed to the bed. It could be seen in him their bodies joined, she completely blushed, her hair covering the pillow, her hands on the back of Tyrion's neck. Sweat shining on his muscular and toned back, his butt, his body moving in the way that could give her more pleasure. The back of his wild hair. She never saw something as erotic as that. He taking her, in an agonizingly slow way, working her, taking her to the peak. She thought she could come just from seeing that image, Tyrion moving like that with her, for her.

He accelerated the pace once more and Sansa felt she was about to rise from the bed and burst into a thousand pieces. She did what she could to accompany his movements with her hips. From Tyrion's throat tore desperate sounds of enjoyment and pleasure. Sansa moaned. They looked at each other, into one another. His movements increasingly frantic.

 _"Sansa."_ Tyrion let out, his voice strangled.

 _"Tyrion."_ Sansa moaned his name.

He pounded into her with considerable force, sinking her into the bed. The screams of both enveloped them, their skins bumping. The sounds of their pleasure louder and louder. Sansa was so close. She closed her eyes.

"Sansa ..."

“Yes?” She blinked and looked at him.

He cupped her cheek with his hand and searched in her eyes. He frowned and pronounced with his seductive lips "I love you." As if his life was in it.

Sansa was about to loose it. "I ... I love you, Tyrion. I love you.” She said grabbing the back of his hair, both moaning louder and louder. They tried to keep their gaze locked but soon it became impossible, Sansa couldn't keep her eyes open and buried her head in the pillow while breathing out of control. Tyrion looked down between them, to see how he penetrated her and brought her to her climax. Sansa pressed the back of Tyrion's neck and began screaming with pleasure.

Their clashing became more erratic, Sansa groaned in an impossible way and pleasure came in waves, her body tensing around his. Tyrion sank himself into her even more as roars escaped from his mouth. Intensely they both came, together. Tyrion made a noise of pure ecstasy and surrender. They rode their orgasms as long as they could. Tyrion kissed the skin of her chest and she reopened her eyes to look at him, they locked eyes and Tyrion thrusted one last time inside her, both moaning.

He fell on top of her, spent. Sansa trying to catch her breath. She crossed her arms over his back and hugged him, holding him close. She loved him so much and the feeling overwhelmed her. This had been the most magical thing that had ever happened to her. Tears began to fall down her cheeks, moistening the pillow.

Tyrion carefully pulled himself out of her and moved his body to lay beside her. He noticed her bright eyes.

"What's wrong?" His fingers wiped one of her tears. He placed himself next to her, hugging her waist.

She smiled “Nothing. It's just ...” she rested her hand on his cheek and searched his eyes. "Tyrion ..." she sighed. “I love you. I feel so complete right now... ” She gigled. "And I'm happy."

Tyrion smiled the brightest smile, his hair spilled on the pillow, unruly. With his hand traced the contour of her face, very delicately. “I'm very pleased. I've could have never dreamed that someone with such light, as strong as you are... as smart, as beautiful could bless me in the way you did just now.” He planted a long kiss on her lips. “Come here.” He settled with his back on the mattress and brought her to him, circling her with his arm. Sansa wrapped him up, getting comfortable. They breathed together, the two tired and the sound of rain lulling them to dreams.

Sansa began to fall asleep, satisfied, on Tyrion's chest. He felt her breath change and kissed her hair and whispered, while he inhaled her scent "I love you, Sansa."

Thunder was heard in the distance.

Tyrion wished this storm would never end.

 

 

 

 

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